Captive Heart
by Blaidd Du
Summary: What if Sam falsely imprinted on Emily, unaware that someone else had imprinted on him first ? What happens after Emily's killed in a hit and run and Sam discovers he was meant to be with that person all along ? *WARNING: contains slash* DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:** The Twilight verse and all that's recognizable belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The rest ? Just the product of my warped imagination. No copyright infringement is intended.

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Captive Heart**

_**Prologue**_

The congregation gathered to pay their last respects at La Push cemetery on an overcast day. All of the Res, who'd known the deceased, had turned out in its entirety. From the elders - Billy Black, Old Quil and Sue Clearwater - through to the youngest members of the Pack. Well, almost all had shown up ... There had been one missing at the graveyard. A person whose absence couldn't possibly be ignored. Someone everyone had taken for granted to be there to comfort and support the bereaved. One by one, after the service drew to a close, the assembly slowly dispersed and headed off in various directions before the ominous storm clouds which had been gathering finally broke.

From the outskirts of the forest which lay at the edge of the cemetery, a lone wolf stood beside a vast tree trunk, studying the proceedings silently. Bright, highly intelligent, amber eyes were trained intently upon the three figures who remained at the graveside. Its gaze fleetingly passed over a tall, handsome man with gentle brown eyes, who had his arm wrapped around the slender waist of a willowy, strikingly beautiful Native American woman before coming to rest upon the third individual who stood beside them.

The wolf eyed the ruggedly handsome, strappingly built man with slavish devotion. Taking in the stoic expression on the lean, attractive face; the tension in his firmly clenched jaw; the pallor beneath his russet skin and the dark shadows which circled velvety golden-brown eyes that had missed countless nights sleep. The large, sleek wolf shifted uneasily as it continued to study the silently grieving man and gave a soft, anxious whine, wanting nothing more than to be at his side and provide some comfort. Some solace ... to take away his anguish and pain.

The couple remained by the older Quileute male's side in a show of genuine support. The raven-haired beauty, quietly encouraged by her lover, was attempting to persuade their bereaved kinsman to leave with them. She gently laid a hand on his forearm and pleaded softly, her action causing the wolf to stiffen in agitation. Its hackles rose and a low, possessive growl rumbled in the back of its throat only to cease immediately as the woman gave a sad smile and reluctantly pulled her hand away in an admission of defeat. The wolf's tail half-heartedly thumped against the tree trunk as the tension began to seep away from its body when it realized the man was equally determined to stay there. Giving in gracefully, although they continued to watch him with concern and affection, the couple finally hugged him and began to walk slowly towards the cemetery gates.

It wasn't long after they left, that the first drops of rain began to fall. The lone mourner stood silently, staring through unseeing eyes at the grave that was covered with bouquets and garlands of wild flowers. He slowly raised his right arm and began to loosen the slim black tie around his neck, before unfastening the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt. By now, it was raining heavily, causing the thin material to become transluscent and to cling to his impressive torso and the colour of the cloth contrasted sharply with his russet skin, as did the flattering, snug-fitting, saturated black denim which encased his taut ass, lean hips and long, muscular legs.

The wolf continued to watch from its vantage point. Torn by the need to approach the distraught figure before him or to flee into the depth of the forest. It hated seeing the usually calm, strong man suffering deeply, the desolate look in his dark, whisky-hued eyes and the anguished expression which ravaged his lean countenance. The beast whined unhappily once more, then took a couple of hesitant steps forward, its posture for such a powerful, fearless animal unusually submissive and wary. It had barely broken cover, when it saw the Quileute suddenly drop to his knees beside the flower-strewn grave and give an anguished, heartbroken cry. The wolf paused abruptly mid-step, clearly at a loss whether to continue forward or not.

The decision was swiftly taken from it. The man began to pound his fists furiously against the wet soil, taking out his anger, frustration, sorrow and grief upon the sodden earth until he fell forward, exhausted. Then, after a few minutes respite, he lethargically dragged his huge frame upward and lifted his face, revealing a face streaked with tears.

"W-Why ? W-Why did I have to lose you, Emily ? It isn't fair ! It's not fucking fair ... " Sam Uley dragged a large, grimy hand down his face in order to brush away the moisture, only to have it smeared with the remnants of wet soil. His usually soft-spoken voice rough with tears. "W-Why did you leave me ? I can't do this on my own ... not without you. I need you. I miss you, Em ... I fucking love you and I want you back ! I can't go on without you ... "

The heartfelt words clouded the unobserved wolf's amber orbs with misery and hurt. Stricken, it suddenly turned and in a flurry of dark silver fur, bolted, its sleek body weaving blindly amongst the trees as it tried to evade hearing any further words of love and longing from his distraught pack brother to the woman he'd just buried.

Sam, meanwhile, remained oblivious to the wolf's presence, of its need to remain close in order to comfort and protect its Alpha and paid no heed to his Beta's anguished howl of need and yearning from within the depths of the forest a couple of minutes later ...


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Just a reminder, this fic is _strictly AU.  
><em>**  
>i) <strong>Leah and Sam _never_ were together. They're just good friends. End of.  
><strong>ii) <strong>Jacob and Leah imprinted on each other and have a very strong, loving relationship.  
><strong>iii) <strong>Paul was the second to phase after Sam and being best friends, they already trusted each other implicitly and that's why Sam chose him as his Beta.  
><strong>iv) <strong>Emily _isn't_ the "sweetness and light" character, as portrayed in the books and the movies. She's an out 'n' out bitch. Basically, the Makah equivalent of a self-centred, whiny, extremely irritating Bella Swan !  
><strong>v)<strong> The lyrics featured are from a song called _"Not Strong Enough" _and belong to Apocalyptica. A song which I've been playing on a permanent loop along with Nickelback's _"Trying Not To Love You" _and _"Holding On __To Heaven."_

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter I**

_**One month later**_

_**Leah's pov:**_

It's been a month since we've buried her. Five weeks since she was killed by a drunk driver in a hit-and-run and Sam's world was completely thrown off its axis. I feel for him. I really do. I can't imagine what he's going through ... or would even want to. In fact, I don't know what the hell I'd do if something like that ever happened to my Jake ... if I lost him. But something tells me, screams at me from within, that if I were to lose Jake, my beloved imprint, my life wouldn't be worth living. I wouldn't want to live without him, as he means everything to me. Just as Emily did to Sam.

I can't say Emily and I got on. That we liked each other. I mean, we were too different. Had nothing in common. We only tolerated each other for the sake of our imprints, but that was it. I wouldn't seek her out for companionship or to confide in her ... I had Kim and Rachel, who were my closest friends outside the Pack for that and they're all I need and trust. Nope, Emily Young and I weren't friends and most likely never would've been. She was more of a man's woman. Always fawning around the Pack, trying to make the rest of us women feel inadequate around our menfolk. Particularly Rach, Kim and me, who'd been imprinted on by Embry, Jared and Jacob ... and much to our dismay, those three sad saps always bought her "Little Miss Perfect" act, just like the rest of the damn Pack. Well, _maybe_ I'm exaggerating slightly there, there was one wolf who had the strength and the smarts not to fall victim to her wiles. And that's our Beta. Paul.

Paul never got to be Beta without a damn good reason. He may be a hot-headed, arrogant, impatient ass at times, but the Council and Sam knew exactly what they were doing when they elected him as the Pack's second-in-command, 'cause our Paulie has a damn good brain and he's not afraid to use it. Paul Lahote's a shrewd, cunning bastard and someone you'd always want to have your back in a tight corner. The man's a born fighter. And considering the shitty upbringing and totally worthless people - well, I can hardly call them parents, as they never cared for him and treated him like dirt - who raised him, it's no wonder that he's the kind of person that lashes out aggressively first and asks questions later.

But as a team, he and Sam worked really well together. They complimented each other. Sam was the cool, calm and collected one. Always planning and thinking things through meticulously and ensuring that we were aware of any potential risks we'd have to face. Paul was the volatile, passionate, loyal one, whose impulsiveness was curbed by Sam's restraint, while Sam was far less controlling and detached, thanks to Paul's influence. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that Sam may well be the Alpha and the Pack's soul, but Paul's definitely its heart.

Anyhoo, no matter, I guess I'm rambling here ... It turned out that I wasn't the only Pack member to dislike Emily. For some reason known only to himself, Paul loathed her from day one. Genuinely hated her. Much to Sam's utter dismay and confusion. Our Alpha couldn't get his head around the fact that his best friend and Beta refused to tolerate his precious Emily. Thanks to her, they began to grow apart. Emily had Sam wrapped around her little finger and she damn well knew it. For a supposedly highly intelligent man, when it came to Emily, Sam could be a total moron. He was besotted with her. She blinded him. Made him fail to see her jealousy towards his Beta and the underhand way she continuously undermined or try to humiliate Paul in front of the Pack.

Sam became blind to the hurt that shadowed Paul's velvety, dark chocolate eyes and the way his proud countenance would darken in anger. Not only that, Sam was deaf to the snide remarks she'd make at Paul's expense; the sly digs Emily made about Paul's home life and of the poor control he had on his temper ... yet not once did Sam reproach _her_ and tell her to lay off that delicate subject. She took pleasure whenever Paul and Sam fell out - something much to my brother Seth, Jacob and my dismay, seemed to occur more frequently than we liked. And Sam never failed to read Paul the riot act if Emily gave the slightest hint that Paul did or said anything which displeased her. And the worst thing about it ? Instead of exploding or instantly phasing like he always did with the rest of us, our fiery, mercurial, mouthy Beta'd just sit back meekly and take it, before sloping off like a wounded animal with its tail between its legs.

Seeing our normally proud, dominant Beta act so out of character, so submissively, during his fights with Sam was so very, very wrong. Paul wasn't supposed to react that way. To lose his snarky, bad ass attitude and the fire in his belly. It simply wasn't him. I know he gives everyone the impression that he's a bad ass mother-fucker, that he's the Pack's original big, bad wolf and all that's perfectly true. He_ is _all that and more ... or at least he used to be. But now, thanks to Emily, Paul's become somewhat of a lone wolf. Oh, he's _still_ loyal to the Pack. Above and beyond the call of duty in fact. But since Emily came into the picture, he's no longer the social animal that he once was. And that can be seen in our Pack meetings. In the past - before Emily got her claws into Sam - you could say Paul was at the heart of things. The life 'n' soul in all our meetings. Thoughtful. Opinionated. And not afraid to air his thoughts, even though some of them could be irritating as hell at times. He'd always hang out with the Pack once the meetings were over, pranking some of the younger wolves and basically relax and have a laugh.

But things changed once Sam got serious about Emily. She succeeded in driving a wedge between Sam and his wingman. Paul became quieter. Taciturn. Colder. And since Emily managed to get her feet firmly under Sam's table, Paul's attitude was one of solely business. The "get it done and get gone" kind. He no longer hung out with us once Pack business was done ... not after the last vicious argument with Sam, which turned into a rather nasty dogfight at surprize, surprize, Emily's instigation. The bitch had Sam by the balls and poor Paul was the one who kept getting it in the neck. Usually for no fault of his own.

Things had gotten so bad between our Alpha and Beta, that Paul would barely look at Sam. Would only speak curtly when spoken to and would do his damnedest to keep to himself as his muscular, six foot three body coiled with tension. Tension which would only begin to dissipate once he'd silently stalk out of Sam's home, citing that he had patrols to run. And that hacked Sam off no end. It kinda pissed me off the way Sam expected Paul to "suck it up and deal with it" ... to expect the most loyal member of his Pack to put up with the disrespectful way Emily treated him. In fact, there were times I'd be so infuriated on our Beta's behalf, that I'd walk out of Sam's cabin. Just to make a point. Not that it made much difference really. Well, not when Sam was so oblivious to anything and everything which wasn't Emily ... But Jake noticed alright. He might not have been Paul's greatest fan at first, but once they became friends, Jake quickly sensed how unhappy Paul was ... how distraught our hot-head felt about losing his best friend.

Shit ! I'm waffling again, aren't I ? Talking, as Seth would say, absolute crap as usual. But this is something I feel pretty strongly about. I know I have a rep for being the Pack's resident bitch, but WTF ... ? I was nowhere in the same league as Emily. And whatever I am, I _never_ tried to destroy the pack dynamic as she did. I _never_ came between two brothers and I hope to god I never do ... no matter how much they wind me up ...

I can't deny that I care for Sam. That I feel sorry that he's in such pain right now. That he's grieving for someone he loved yet lost. But Paul ? I've come to love him like an annoying older sibling. One I can't help but like. A lot. I hate seeing him suffer like this. I know he misses Sam terribly ... that he misses the closeness they once had.

In a way, I'd hoped that Emily's death might have brought them back together ... but it never happened. Paul was unable to shake off the memory of his last fight with Sam ... that Sam had betrayed and rejected their friendship. And so he continued to stay away. He even elected to patrol on the day of the funeral and pulled a double shift so that me and Jake could be there to support Sam. The awful thing about the situation was that a few people were quick to loudly voice their opinions about Paul's absence, one of them it pains me to say, sadly, was my own mother. Looking back, I'm still pretty ticked off with mom for the way she kept acting like the sun shone out of Emily's ass and how she constantly compared me, her own daughter, unfavourably to the late, deceased "Saint" Emily. Way I figure it, is why the hell should Paul attend a funeral to pay respect to someone who did nothing but disrespect him while she was alive ? If I'd been in his position, I'd've done exactly the same. So, no, I'm not going to miss her now that she's gone and I'm only sorry that she's pushing up daisies, for Sam's sake ..._ not _hers.

But I have to admit, I'm worried about Sam. It's been a month and none of us have seen him since the funeral. It's like he's laying low and gone to ground to lick his wounds. Or flying under the radar, if you like ... Whatever ... What scares me is that Sam's clearly not himself. Rumour had it that he'd met up with the Council and demanded that they replace him as Alpha ... that he'd no intention of leading the Pack. So now, Jake, who happens to be the rightful Alpha, has had to step up to the plate as temporary cover. And Jake only did it with the proviso that Sam would eventually return as Alpha and that Paul continued as Beta. And fair dues to Paul, he has been pulling his weight over the last few weeks and has taken on far more than his fair share of patrols, never mind having Jake's back and providing him as much support as possible. That kinda threw Jake for a loop at the beginning, but now, he's truly grateful for all the help Paul's given him. But this weird reclusive shit that Sam's doing is really freaking me out. I can't help but worry that unless we get through to him soon, that he's going to do something really stupid ... and if that happens, I'll never be able to forgive myself.

So, I'm thinking maybe it's time we did something about it. Show Sam that we care. It's time we quit pussyfooting around the issue, pulled our fingers out of our butts and checked up on him. I reckon it's time for Jake to have a little chat with our stubborn Beta and persuade him that it'd be in his interest to start talking to his best friend once more.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Paul's pov:**_

It's been two years ... Two long frickin' years since it happened. Since God decided to have a huge laugh at the expense of La Push's resident skirt-chaser and hot-head. And it's one big, sad fucking joke ... only I'm not smiling, let alone laughing ...

Two years ago, my life turned completely upside down. Made me feel as if I were struck by a right curve ball ... and since then, everything's turned to complete shit. Become a goddamn clusterfuck.

My home life's always been a mess. My old man's been a mean, abusive drunk ever since I've known him. Mom's always lived in fear of him. Constantly on tenterhooks as to where the next blow's coming from and what will trigger his violence. She's a complete bag of nerves ... existing from day to day as his own personal punchbag; terrified of opening her mouth and saying the wrong thing. And once the rat-arsed bastard's done hitting her, he usually starts on me.

Hell ! I've lost track how many times me 'n' mom have ended up in A&E, needing to be patched up; how often Sue Clearwater's tried to help us or convince us both to just pack up our stuff and leave him ... but mom always refuses. Says we'll both be fine. That dad didn't mean any of it. That he was just under a lot of stress. But me 'n' Sue know better. We both know what's going on and we're both pissed 'cause our hands are tied over the situation. We both know mom will never leave the old man, 'cause she's afraid that he'll track us both down and fuck knows what'd happen to us then ... Like I said, I've lost track of how bad things are at home. How often I've turned up at school with bruises I can't explain or how many broken bones I've had. Fuck ! I'm almost damn sure by now, that there isn't a single part of my body that hasn't been kicked or punched by that evil old bastard.

A son's meant to love his parents, right ? Not hate or live in fear of them. That's why I've always envied Jacob and Leah and Seth for their parents. They've no idea just how fucking lucky they are to have such great people as parents. Folk who genuinely and unconditionally love them no matter what. Hell ! I'm even jealous of Embry. He may not have known his dad, but his mom ? She's awesome. She adores Embry, positively thinks the sun shines from his ass and would do absolutely anything for him. Mrs Call's not had an easy life. Not by a long shot. She's always worked hard and done her best for Embry. Being a single mom couldn't have been easy for her, but she did it all with no grousing, simply 'cause she loves her son and always put his welfare and happiness first. I just wish I'd been so lucky ...

But to get back to the point. What I'm trying to say was I'm totally fucked and my life's just plain screwed.

Two years ago was the last time my dad ever hit me. Since then, after what happened, he hasn't laid a finger on me. And the reason for it ? I phased for the first time and nearly scared the old bugger to death. Now he just gives me a wide berth and death glares and that's something I can live with. My mom's not been so lucky. Every so often, when I'm not around, he beats her up. Simply 'cause she's smaller and weaker than him and that makes the fucker feel good. One of these days, I swear to god, I'm going to catch him at it and I'm gonna make his life absolute hell ...

I always hoped I'd never turn out like my parents. I didn't want to be like them. A drunken, vicious bully like my old man or a weak, frightened person like my mom. But it looked like someone forgot to send that particular memo to the big man upstairs ... 'cause I ended up inheriting dad's worst possible traits. His violent temper and stubborn streak. And I loathe it. I truly hate being like him ...

**FLASHBACK**

So yeah, here I am. Seventeen years old, a hot-headed, aggressive and impetuous prick who'd just discovered he was a goddamn freak of nature. A frickin' wolf ! I was so confused and terrified that I hadn't a damn clue what was going on, what was happening to me that I bolted into the thick of the forest behind my house.

One minute, I was a normal teenage boy, who was slightly buffer than I used to be and who had a far higher temperature than normal. The next ? I was on all fours, covered with dark silver fur, had heightened senses and having the mother of all panic attacks.

_Oh, shit ... Oh, shit ... OH, SHIT !_ I said, or rather whimpered to myself. _What the fuck ? _I stared down at my huge paws and another intense wave of panic overwhelmed me. _This can't be happening. There's just no fucking way this is fucking happening ... It's just a dream. A bad dream. Just a nightmare. Once I wake up, everything'll be ok and I'll have a laugh about it ... That's what I'll do. I'll just lie down, close my eyes and when I wake up, everything'll be ok ..._

Swear to God, on all things sacred, I prayed like mad that it was just a dream. But as soon as I opened my eyes and saw those damned huge paws stretched out in front of me, it slowly sank in that nothing changed. I gave a cry, well, it came out as more of a deep, loud howl than a cry, of pure frustration and hysteria before leaping to my feet and growling softly as I paced anxiously.

_Fuck ! I'm stuck ... I'm gonna be a frickin' wolf forever. This wasn't supposed to happen. I had my whole damned life planned, for fuck's sake. Get my apprenticeship sorted, pass my exams and get my qualifications, then open my own bike custom and repair shop ... Maybe get a couple more tatts and a piercing or two ... Shit ! No more women ... I'm never gonna get laid again. Might as well get rid of my dick 'n' balls while I'm at it, considering I'm never gonna get any more action. It's not fair ... Why do I have to spend the rest of my fucking life as an overgrown, fleabitten furball ? This is just great ... just fucking great !_

And that's when it happened. When I got the biggest shock of my life.

_Paul ? Hey, Lahote ? That you ?_

Startled, I nearly jumped through my skin when I heard that deep, husky voice, then immediately spun around, with my hackles raised as I scanned the area for its owner. There was no one there. Confused, I sat down, my brow furrowing into a wolfish frown. _Oh, great ... so now I'm hearing voices in my head. Imagining things. Could my piss-poor life actually get any worse ?_

_Oh, for crying out loud, Lahote. Your mind's not playing tricks on you. It's me. Sam._

By now, I was totally thrown off balance. Completely at a loss. I shifted slightly to make myself more comfortable and began to scratch behind my right ear with the paw of my hind leg. _Sam ? "Sam" who ? Do I even_ know _a "Sam ?"_

_'Course you do. Sam Uley, you stupid dick !_

_Oh, right ... That Sam ... _If a wolf could break a world record for looking sheepish, then I just had to be a winner. I'd probably be unbeatable.

_Yeah, _that_ Sam ... _

I heard a soft chuffing sound and took it to mean the wolf equivalent of laughter. It was then followed by the equally soft padding of feet. Then I saw it. A massive, sleek, powerfully built, jet black wolf with yellow eyes. It broke through the cover and calmly approached me with a confidence that blew me away. It's tail was at half mast, wagging slightly.

Even though I was way larger than your average wolf, this one towered over me. I growled softly and stiffened. Whoever the hell this was, I was taking no chances and despite the huge difference in size, if it attacked me, I would retaliate and defend myself ... even though the thought alone had me shitting myself.

The sable wolf shook its head and looked distinctly amused ... for a wolf. _Paul ... Paul ... Paul ... Calm down, it's just me. Sam._

_WTF ? Sam ?_ I gave him what would soon be patented as my "Are you for real or are you just shitting me ?" look. The look that had the Pack's members wary of me.

_Come on Paul. Follow me._

_Uh, where are we going ?_ I asked warily, not wanting any more nasty surprizes unless I could help it.

_Back to my place, then on to Billy Black's ... There's stuff you need to know ..._

_**XXXXX**_

I followed him silently into a large, comfortable log cabin at the outskirts of the forest.

Sam stalked briskly up the steps and nudged the door open with his snout. Once inside, he turned his head and watched me carefully as I stood hesitantly outside. I swear if a wolf could roll his eyes, Sam did just that as well as roll his impressive shoulders in what could only be classed as a shrug. He sighed.

_You coming in ? Or are you expecting me to roll out the red carpet or something ?_

I gave an unimpressed "humph" and cautiously entered the cabin and found myself in a spacious living room which was both warm and welcoming.

_Wait here while I go 'n' get you something to wear. Then I'll show you how to phase back. _Sam ordered before slipping into a side room.

I stood there silently and took in my surroundings, appreciating both its beauty and comfort. It felt like a home, unlike my own, which resembled a war zone at the best of times. For the first time since I'd shifted into a wolf, I felt calm. And at peace.

There were some fine wood carvings scattered around the room. All of the local wildlife. Deer. Elk. Bear and cougar. But one in particular caught my eye. It mesmerized me. It was a wolf. So utterly lifelike and realistic, that I half expected to see it move at any time or see a breeze gently ruffle its thick fur. It made me think of one wolf in particular as the resemblance was so uncanny. It reminded me of Sam.

I must've sensed Sam's presence before I heard him re-enter the room. I turned ... and suddenly froze.

It was as if time stood still. I felt inexplicably bound to Sam ... Couldn't imagine living my entire life without him being present in it. In any way, shape or form. It was like I was magnetically drawn to Sam and that I would always be attracted to him. Heat coursed throughout my body and all I could see was Sam. I felt as if my centre of gravity had snapped then shifted to bind itself entirely to him; anything which connected me to everything and anyone else had been cleaved. From now on, all that mattered ... all that was important in my life was Sam ... and I felt a powerful compulsion to care for and protect him. To do anything and everything I could to ensure his happiness.

Where these intense feelings for Sam came from, I'm fucked if I knew. But they were there. Undeniably so. And they would always be there. Come what may. Sam would always be the main priority in my life. Overshadowing everyone else. Rather like the sun eclipsing the moon. Everyone else - if I remembered them - would forever come second to him. And I would always place his welfare and happiness above everything else, even if it meant sacrificing mine.

"Paul ... Paul ?"

I must've zoned out. I slowly shook my head in a vain attempt to focus and stared at Sam who stood before me, with his striking whisky-hued eyes narrowed in concern. He'd shifted back to human form ... and what an impressive form it was. He was tall. Well over six foot three and impressively built. Ripped, in fact. The first thing I noticed, well I'd've had to be blind if I hadn't, was the fact that he was half naked. A pair of denim cutoffs were slung low over his narrow hips and clung enticingly to his lower body, flattering his toned physique.

I swallowed hard. Glad for once that I was not in human form, otherwise I'd've been sorely tempted to lick my lips at the sight of him. That should've been the first warning sign. That I definitely found him attractive. Desirable. Me ? Paul Lahote. Skirt-chaser extraordinaire. The womanizing bad boy from La Push who left nothing but a trail of broken, hearts in his wake was seriously lusting after another man. And fair play, Sam was undeniably a very fine specimen. Absolutely hot.

Smooth russet skin covered taut sinew, like silk cloaking hot steel. Closely cropped hair, black as a raven's wing, covered his scalp, accentuating strong, chiselled features that were both beautiful and unarguably masculine. Combine all those assets with those striking, highly intelligent golden-brown eyes and that deep, gravelly voice ... well, no wonder I was suddenly and mysteriously confused about my sexuality.

The rest of the day became a complete blur. Totally passed me by. All I knew, once I'd laid eyes on Sam and met his stunning, concerned gaze, was that my life would never be the same again.

_**XXXXX**_

By the time I'd understood what had happened to me - what imprinting truly was - and found the nerve to tell Sam, it was too late. He'd met Emily. And was very taken by her.

I'd stopped by the auto-shop that he owned, after hours of inner conflict with myself whether to tell him or not that I'd imprinted on him. I'd kept quiet about it for almost a month and the knowledge was eating away at me like cancer. In the end, it got too much and I decided, the hell with it, Sam had a right to know. I owed it to him. He was my best friend. My Alpha. And I could no longer lie to or keep my secret from him.

I ambled into the garage, full of anticipation and if I'm honest, some trepidation about how Sam would take the news. All I could do was pray that he didn't completely reject me. 'Cause if he did ? Well, lets just say my life may as well be over.

"Hey, Sam ! You busy ?" I yelled over the radio, which was currently playing Nickelback's "Trying Not To Love You" full blast. Oh, the irony of it being that song being aired, just as I was about to drop a frickin' bombshell on the man. "Got a sec ? I really need to talk to yo- "

I came to an abrupt halt as I found Sam leaning against an open bonnet of a rust bucket, his attention completely focused on some skank ... er, sorry, girl who appeared to own it. He appeared totally smitten by her and I hated the bitch on sight.

"Oh- " I mumbled. That was unusual in itself as I never mumble. I yell, I cuss, I bawl out people, I whisper sweet nothings to them, but I, Paul Lahote, _never _mumble.

"Sure, man. What can I do for you ?" Sam replied, his gaze never wavering from her.

Shaking my head in disappointment, I growled, "Er, forget it. I can see you're ... _busy. _It doesn't matter anyway. 'S not if it was something _important_."

I turned on my heel, head bowed and stalked towards the door. Trying to put on a brave face so that he wouldn't see something was bothering me.

"Paul. _Wait ! _What's up ?" Sam reluctantly hauled himself away from the heap masquerading as a car and slowly approached me. He laid his hand on my forearm and the heat from his palm against my skin was scorching. It also sent the blood directly to my nethers, making me impossibly hard.

Shrugging my shoulders, I waved him off. "Look, it's nothing, man. Really. Forget about it. Sorry I disturbed you ..."

"You sure ?"

By now, the song had long since changed on the radio and the lyrics were even more poignant.

_There's nothing I can do  
>My heart is chained to you<br>And I can't get free  
>Look what this love's done to me<em>

"Sure I'm sure ... It's just me being crazy. I'll catch up with you late- "

Before I could even finish what I was about to say, I could tell that Sam was distracted ... that his attention was firmly back on the slut who was eyeing him up possessively. I felt my lips curl into a disgusted, furious snarl. How_ dare _she ? How fucking dare she look at _my_ imprint as if he were a piece of fucking meat for the taking ? She wasn't worthy to be in his presence. No where near good enough for him ... He deserved far, far better than _that._

I could feel the tension rapidly seeping into my body. The acute need to phase. And the dull, constantly throbbing ache I had in my chest. Exactly where my heart was frantically beating. And all I could think of was that I had to leave ... before I did something stupid. Luckily for me, I had my back to them. Even more lucky, Sam had all but forgotten my presence.

To my horror, I felt a tear slowly trickle down my cheek and I wiped it away furiously with the back of my hand. There was no way in hell, I could tell Sam now. Not when he was clearly interested in her. I'd lost him, before I even got the chance to tell him how I felt. And that knowledge was tearing me apart. Slowly killing me. But I could see how happy Sam looked when he'd been flirting with her. He was genuinely happy and there was no way - no matter how badly I yearned for him, longed for him to want me the way I wanted him - I could selfishly come between him and what he wanted. After all, when it comes to the crunch, my imprint's happiness and well being take precedence over everything else, no matter how strongly I feel about him.

Seeing he was otherwise occupied, I had no choice but to leave. I fled. Determined never to reveal my secret as I'd never be able to deal with the rejection or pity I'd find in Sam's highly observant eyes.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

So, yeah ... That's why I hated Emily so badly. She just swanned into Sam's autoshop that day and stole my reason for living. She fucking took my life away from me, broke my heart in the process and regularly stomped on it for good measure. And the fact that she's a bitch of the first order just makes it so much easier for me to hate her. If I'm honest, I'm glad she's gone. Glad that she's dead. And I know I'm being an embittered, vindictive bastard for feeling this way, but I just can't find it in me to care. The only thing I do care about is that my Sam's truly suffering and is in immense pain. Pain I'd do anything to endure on his behalf. Like I said, Sam's my imprint and I'd do anything for him ... Anything, if it brought a glimmer of hope, of happiness to his eyes once more.

So now, here I am. Outside my imprint's home for the first time in a month. I haven't seen him in weeks ... Not since we last fought ... and that was down to that conniving bitch. I stayed away 'cause it was too hard for me to be around him. To see him. Hear him. Smell him. And not be able to touch or taste him. I've missed him terribly. More than I ever imagined possible. And now, I find myself as a favour to both Jake and Leah, about to enter the wolf's den. To be Sam's loyal and supportive Beta once more ... and I'm fucked if I know how he's gonna react once he sees me ...


	3. Chapter 2

_**WARNING**__**:**_** This chapter contains strong language and violence, as well as a dub-con, rough sex scene. ****If **_**any**_** of this causes offence, please hit the back button now ... and to anyone daft enough to ignore this warning only to moan about the content afterwards, then you've only yourself to blame ...**

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter II**

_**Sam's pov:**_

God ! I how miss her ... I miss my Em so fucking much. Since I lost her, I dunno what the fuck I'm doing anymore. I'm just ... just completely lost without her. I can't sleep. Can't eat. Can't feel or seem to think or care about anything or anyone. I just can't fucking function without her. It's like I'm drifting aimlessly, with no purpose. My life has no meaning ... _I've_ no meaning or purpose anymore. It's like ... All I can feel right now is that I'm a hollow shell. I just feel numb. Empty. I never realized or knew that losing someone you loved could feel like this. So devastating. So heartachingly bad. But it does. Physical pain ... I can deal with. I can handle it. But emotional pain ? This is just tearing me apart. Fucking killing me slowly ...

I'm constantly reminded of her, everytime I look around my home. No matter what my gaze falls upon, it manages to make me think of Emily and brutally reminds me of what I no longer have in my life. The damn place just feels so cold. So empty. Without her. There are some rooms I can't bring myself to go into. The kitchen's almost a no-go area, for obvious reasons ... it was Em's favourite place. And then there's our bedroom ? I haven't slept there since it happened. Couldn't bare to lie there ... smell traces of her fragrant scent on our sheets ... To have to be there alone, without her lying in my arms ... I can still picture her willowy body curled up against mine, seeking warmth. Her soft, small curves pressed tightly to my hard, sinewy frame as her slim arms wrap around me. The feel of her long, coconut-scented, brunette hair tickling my skin as she moves against me as she sleeps ... I can't help but miss her. I still want her ... need her ...

It's been five interminably long weeks of sheer hell. Five weeks of constantly expecting to hear the front door open. For Emily to walk back in. To hear her call my name, then fall into my arms as I kiss her senseless. Instead it's been five weeks of self-exile from everyone. The only person I want around is the one I can't have ... the one who's lost to me. And if I can't have Em, then I don't want anyone else.

My home's a real dive. I'm a fucking mess and I can't bring myself to care that I've let myself go completely. I've basically moved into my living room. The couch's become my bed and the floor a cross between a wardrobe, laundry basket and trashcan, thanks to my clothes and empty beer bottles strewn all over it. As I stumble across the room, I happen to accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the fire place. I look exactly how I feel ... like shit.

Groaning, I run a tired hand through my shaggy, unkempt hair. Hair which has swiftly outgrown its cropped, spiky cut and desperately needs a wash. And for the life of me, I can't remember when I last did that. I can't deny that I look seriously rough. I look haggard. Gaunt even, considering I've refused to phase over the last month or so. Leah's been around nearly every week, leaving me food so that I don't starve, but I've simply lost my appetite and just can't face the thought of eating lately.

I know Lee's worried sick about me. I can feel it in the tone of her voice as she softly calls my name, gently trying to coax me into opening the door and letting her in. But I never do ... I _daren't_ let her in. 'Cause if I do, I'll cave in ... I _know_ I will. I'm barely holding myself together as it is. But if I open that door, it'll be the "in" Leah needs to chip away at my defences. To widen the tiny cracks that have started to appear in my resistance. Our she-wolf has the uncanny gift for sensing and exploiting weakness, honing in on it in the same way that a shark does after it senses spilt blood and she will _always_ play on those flaws. Yet despite her reputation as the Pack's resident bitch, Leah has a kind and tender heart and a great capacity to care for others and for all her bad attitude and abrasive, snarky comments, she only acts that way for our own good. And the scary thing about it ? That Leah's almost always right ... So, no, so far I haven't let her in and I've no intention of doing so. 'Cause even the least bit of kindness or the slightest trace of sympathy will break what tentative grip I have on my sanity. The last thing I need is Leah getting inside my head to try and fix me. I'm too broken for that. I'm unfixable.

Even Jacob came round a couple of times. He got the same reception as Leah. I kept my head down and laid low. Don't get me wrong, Jake's a great guy. An old head on very young shoulders. And a well-meaning, good and loyal friend. He and Leah make a great couple. They're well matched in every way and even a blind person can clearly see that they adore each other.

In fact, the only Pack member I'd've probably allowed entry would've been my Beta. Paul. But for some stupid, pathetic reason known only to himself, the moody bastard's avoiding me ... like he has been for the last couple of months and that's seriously pissing me off. He's _my_ fucking Beta, for fuck's sake ! My Pack brother and best friend. He _should've _been here. _With me_. Supporting me at a time when I needed him the most. But instead of being at my side - where he'd always vowed to be - where was he ? I'm fucked if I know ... and the knowledge that he no longer cares enough to be around me leaves a nasty, acidic, bilious taste in my mouth. It hurts. It hurts like hell ... But he never came. He continues to stay away and that makes me feel inexplicably angry towards him.

The empty Budweiser bottle which I'd been nursing as I absently paced across the length of the room, suddenly slipped from my numb fingers. My head jerked abruptly upward at the sound of familiar, purposeful footsteps approaching the cabin, as well as an equally familiar heartbeat, which sounded quicker than usual. And with that heartbeat came an equally recognizable scent ... Attractively musky. Virile. And shockingly, unusually alluring ...

As the door knob slowly turned, my body stiffened with tension. I snarled softly in warning, as that enticing scent wafted through the widening gap created by the cautiously opened door. It appeared that my errant Beta was finally back. And I was far from happy with the thought of having to deal with him ...

_**XXXXX**_

_**Paul's pov:**_

_What the hell am I doing here ?_ Confused, I slowly shook my head as I paused uncertainly and watched the familiar wooden cabin in silent trepidation. I really, _really_ didn't want to be here ... not after what happened at our last Pack meeting. Since then, I'd always managed to find some excuse to stay away, my main one being the need to patrol. This was the last place I wanted to be and he's the last person I wanted to be around. Suddenly, I felt a searing ache in my chest as I fought against the burning need, the intense longing, to be with my imprint once more. To be close to Sam.

But after my last encounter with him, where he'd viciously attacked me after that malignant Makah witch had blatantly lied about me, I'd felt deeply betrayed by him. His steadfast refusal to believe me, when I'd never lied to and had always been loyal to him, had grievously wounded me ... and by taking her side against me, he'd broken my heart. After that, I'd vowed to myself that I'd steer clear of Sam Uley at all costs ... that I'd have nothing more to do with him outside of Pack business - that turned out to be easier said than done ... But I swore to myself that I'd do just that, even though the pull of the imprint constantly plagued me, that it regularly gnawed away and distracted me from everything but the thought of him ... I've been in endless pain ever since; aching desperately for Sam. My heart, body and soul scream for him ... I crave him desperately. Although my mind - my common sense - pleads for me to stay away from or at least to keep him at arms's length, for the sake of my own sanity if nothing else ...

I've slowly come to realize and reluctantly accept that while Sam may be my imprint, no matter how intensely I need, want and love him, he _isn't_ mine ... Nor will he ever be. And I know he'll never willingly accept me. That I'm desperately clinging to a fool's dream that he won't reject me. 'Cause he will do just that. As surely as night follows day. And the quicker I come to terms with it, the better it'll be ... But thinking and saying it is a whole different ballgame from following through and actually doing it, isn't it ? It's not even in the same league. And that's how I find myself standing here, dithering like a goddamn wuss, breaking my own promise 'cause I was dumb enough to listen to Jake's persuasive words and let them sway me ... _SHIT ! _This fucking imprint's really screwing me and it's making me soft. Too soft for my own good. It isn't doing my rep any good. I've always been a hard ass of the "I take no fucking crap" variety, yet when it comes to this imprint shit, or to be more specific, Sam, I'm turning into a real fucking pussy ... A pushover ... and that's something way beyond my control.

I gave myself a sharp mental slap upside the head and grudgingly stalked up the wooden steps to the front door, then before I could change my mind and bolt, slowly turned the door handle and pushed it open.

_**XXXXX**_

"Yo ! Sam ! You home ?"

Seeing as we clearly weren't on the best of terms, there was no way in hell I was going to swan into his home without giving him any warning. Honestly ? It was a fucking stupid question to ask. 'Course he was home. He was _always_ home. It was common knowledge on the Res that since the funeral, Sam hadn't left his home. That he'd become somewhat of a recluse and was avoiding everyone. But it was still his home and for once, I was going to respect his privacy and not barge in like I used to do.

Warily, I took a couple of steps into the room and allowed my eyes to become gradually accustomed to the poor lighting cast by the flickering flames in the old stone fireplace. The silence was deafening. It unnerved me. Yet I knew Sam was there ... somewhere. I could feel his presence nearby. Smell him.

Suddenly, the door slammed closed. The unexpected sound made me flinch imperceptibly and I could feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck. I then became uncomfortably aware of my Alpha standing directly behind me, blocking my access to the door and preventing any possible escape. Bowing my head, I briefly closed my eyes. This couldn't be good.

"What the hell are_ you _doing here ?" Sam snarled softly. "Why the fuck are you here ... _Paul ?_"

Going by the dismissive and contemptuous way he spat out my name, I could tell he didn't want me in his home ... That I was the last person that he wanted to see or talk to. That he didn't want _me_ of all people, invading his space and privacy. It appeared we finally agreed or came to an understanding about something, he didn't want to be around me any more than I wanted to be near him. Though that wasn't quite the whole truth on my part ... I was conflicted. I did want - no, I _needed_ - to be with him, despite my better judgement.

"I ... uh ... Sam- "

Slowly, I turned around to face him, my right hand absently rubbing my nape as I warily met his gaze. What I saw, shook me to my very core. Sam looked like hell.

I heard a low, deep, threatening growl. It was one I was all too familiar with. It was the growl Sam reserved for the leeches ... and for those he hated. It meant that he hadn't forgotten what had happened between us all those weeks ago ... and even worse, I was far from forgiven. And going by the baleful look in his cold, dead eyes, it was extremely unlikely that I would be. I received further confirmation of this from the tone of his voice as he continued to speak. It was softly spoken, yet calm ... exceedingly calm. That worried me, 'cause the calmer, more rational Sam sounds ... well, it's dead giveaway and a perfect gauge of how pissed off he truly is ... And as I listened to him, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Sam was _seriously _pissed with me.

"_Well ? _I asked _you_ a fucking question ... Why the hell are you here, Paul ? And don't even think of lying to me, 'cause I'll know if you do ... "

Sam began to close the gap between us. He loomed over me, which is no mean feat, considering I stand around six foot three. But Sam's a true giant. He has at least three inches on me in height and he's powerfully built. There's not an ounce or layer of fat on his toned frame, just pure muscle and as he gazed down on me in contempt, I fought to prevent him from seeing that I was truly intimidated by him.

And that's the scary thing. Me ? Paul Lahote. Scourge of all nomad vamps, King of Snark and Bad Ass 'tude, was suddenly genuinely cowed and "frightened" probably isn't the right word for it, by his Alpha's hostility. And that's a sensation which didn't feel right ... These weren't emotions I was supposed to feel about my imprint. No way ... But his remark that he thought that I was capable of lying to him rankled me. It really stung ... and being the loud mouth that I am, I was unable to let it go without opening my yap and inevitably, hacking Sam off more than he already was.

"Hey ! Wait up. _You're_ accusing _me_ of lying ? I may be a lot of things, Sam ... Hell ! I _know_ I'm an arrogant jerk ... that I've a goddamn temper and control issues ... that I'm an out 'n' out bastard and the worst tom cat La Push has ever seen ... but there's one thing I ain't and that's a fucking liar. I've always played straight with you, Sam ... never had cause to lie to you or anyone else and I ain't about to start now. I _always_ had your fucking back no matter what, but I can see now that that counts for shit ... _that I count for shit_." I paused for breath, my chest heaving rapidly in agitation as I struggled to keep my fiery temper in check. It was a wonder that I hadn't screwed up and told him if he was so desperate to find a liar, then he should've looked closer to home months ago. Miraculously, I managed to keep that ill-advised comment to myself.

Sam's gazed narrowed further, making me feel like a bug under a microscope. "Just answer the damn question. What. The. Hell. Are. _You_. Doing. Here ?"

I swallowed hard, then decided to bite the bullet. "I'm here 'cause Jacob asked me ... and ... and 'cause I'm worried about yo- "

Sam barked a mirthless laugh and moved even closer. I could feel the heat emanating from him and he was close enough for me to touch him ... if I only had the nerve to dare. "_You ? _Worried about _me ? _You're kidding me ... right ? Since when have you cared for me, huh ? Didn't feel you caring a damn these past few weeks ... If you _cared _so much about me, where the fuck _were_ you when I fucking needed you ? You're _my_ goddamn Beta, Paul. Where the hell were you during Em's funeral ? _I _fucking needed you there ... I _needed_ you beside me ... Needed _your_ support ... And you, you were a fucking no-show ..."

"Well, can you blame me ? Honestly ?" I spat. By now, I was so upset that I was trembling as I tried to prevent myself from phasing. "The way things have been lately ... between us ...Didn't think I'd be welcome- "

"_BULLSHIT ! _That's a crock of shit if ever I heard it ... You were AWOL 'cause you're a selfish, unreasonable, vindictive prick ! You've had it in for Em since day one. You were too much of an asshole to even try to get on with her ... Hell ! I haven't a frickin' clue why you hated her, 'cause she never gave you a reason to, but you did ... You owe me an explanation why you made Em's life hell when she did nothing to yo- "

Sam's words cut to the quick. They really hurt. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. I could feel my control gradually weakening and I prayed that I wouldn't lose it. My chest felt tight, my heart ached. I could feel my arms were heavier and I kept clenching and unclenching my fists. When I finally opened my eyes, I averted my gaze, determined not to let him see my pain.

"I owe you jack shit," I muttered angrily. "Nothing. Nada ... I've been far from selfish. If you only kne- "

I suddenly realized that I almost gave away my secret and swiftly shut my mouth. There was no way I could let Sam find out about the imprint. No way in hell. His attitude towards me now was bad enough. But if he knew ? I shuddered inwardly at the thought of how he'd react. But he was wrong to accuse me of being selfish. That was the one thing I hadn't been. I'd given up any chance or hope I'd had for happiness when I'd kept quiet about the imprint, so that he could be with her. A woman who never deserved him. One who'd lied, cheated and deceived in order to gain what wasn't rightfully hers.

Unfortunately, Sam honed into that last telling remark, faster than a wolf on a vamp's trail. "What ? Tell me. "If I only knew" _what ?_"

"Nothing ! Fuck all, Sam," I snapped, the situation finally getting too much for me. All I wanted was to leave. To get away from Sam and his hostility and aggression. "Y'know what ? 'S not as if it matters anymore ... or that I ever mattered to you either. I was so fucking stupid when I believed you actually gave a damn about me and the Pack," I added under my breath, before making a move to slip past him. "Dunno why I fucking bothered coming here in the first place ... It was just a waste of time. The sad thing is, I always saw you as my best friend first, then my Alpha. I actually came here, 'cause I was really worried about you and I missed you. So, don't worry about it, you won't be seeing me again. I'll just let you carry on as you are. Wallow in your own depressive shit for all I care. I'm done !"

I began to stalk towards the door and as I passed him, I suddenly felt a vice-like grip around my wrist which stopped me in my tracks. I growled angrily, knowing that if I didn't get away from him soon that things would definitely deteriorate between us. And wouldn't look good ... particularly for me.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." I glared down at the large, beautifully shaped capable hand that tightly grasped my wrist, knowing that it'd definitely leave a vicious bruise on my skin. Branding me. "I said ... Fuck, Sam ! Let go. _Now !_"

Sam's hand, if it were at all possible, somehow tightened its grip instead of releasing me. Closing my eyes, I winced as the increasing pressure of Sam's hold on my wrist ground the bones against each other.

"I mean it, Sam. Let frickin' go ! Don't make me do something you'll later regret- "

I was suddenly jerked forward into Sam's personal space. I swallowed hard. The heated malevolence in his striking whisky-hued gaze made me want to flee. To just curl up somewhere and die. The continuous dull ache in my chest was replaced by sharp, stabbing pains which took my breath away. I hurriedly broke eye contact with him and my gaze dropped to his broad, smooth chest. Big mistake. Swallowing even harder, I groaned inwardly and my gaze absently drifted down and fell on his eight pack ... which was an even bigger mistake. Being so close to and within touching distance of the object of my affection's toned, strapping body had me dizzy with need and want. Lightheaded, I couldn't help but sway towards him. The constant pull of the imprint was far too strong for me to ignore. Despite Sam's animosity, I still craved him. Badly. Even though my head was screaming at me how wrong it was, my body and heart longed for Sam. He was all I wanted ... all I needed and more importantly, loved, but Sam hated and had rejected me. And that hatred and rejection had left me crushed. Totally devastated.

I was conflicted. My feelings for Sam were overwhelming and terribly confusing. On the one hand, I wanted to run. To forget about being a wolf. To forget about Sam and live my life simply. Happily. To deny the imprint. On the other hand, what I truly yearned for was to be with Sam. To always be by his side and to be the one that made him genuinely happy. I was abruptly distracted from that all too beautiful daydream by the pressure of Sam's short nails digging sharply into my flesh. Bewildered, I looked up and stared at him blankly.

"Are _you_ threatening _me_, Beta ? Seriously ?"

Hearing Sam's low, deep growl did funny things to me. Heat began to race through my veins, developing into a steadily flickering flame that coursed through my body which ended up as a raging inferno deep within my loins. I burned for Sam and he had no clue at all as to how I felt about him. Despite his cold, uncaring attitude towards me, I still loved him. I couldn't help it. Thanks to this fucking imprint, he'd gotten under my skin - something no one had ever succeeded in doing before - and had buried himself deep within my heart. He clearly wasn't himself and still suffered greatly from the loss of the woman he loved. Sam was ruled by sorrow and grief, governed by anger and pain and thanks to all those raw, intense emotions I was now the focus of all his rage.

As I continued to mull over Sam, I failed to notice he'd freed my wrist. I also missed his frustrated snarl, the way his eyed narrowed and glittered icily with impatience as I failed to respond to his question. But worst of all ? I was so distracted by his proximity that I didn't notice the sudden flash of russet skin as his right arm drew back and Sam lashed out with his fist. But I didn't miss the way my head reeled back as that fist connected with my jaw. Nor the powerful impact of that deadly blow, which dragged me out of my stupor as did the feel of blood as it steadily trickled from my lower lip down my chin.

Shocked that Sam had actually raised his hand to me without provocation, I stared at him in hurt disbelief. Ok, so Sam had hit me before, but all those times had been down to me baiting him or going out of my way to seriously wind him up. And he'd only struck me as a means to shut me up, not to hurt me. But this time ? This time was different. We were both hurting. Were both suffering from indescribable pain. And for once, I'd kept my runaway yap shut only to be on the receiving end of Sam's wrath.

The next thing I knew, savage blows were being rained upon me from all directions. Each and every strike was brutal. Meant to inflict as much pain as physically possible. Sam didn't hold back. Not for an instant. It was as if he was consumed by bloodlust. That his fury and grief blinded him to any rational thought.

Hesitantly, I raised my arm to prevent another blow from landing on my face. The pain was excruciating. Sam was relentless in his fury. Endless suffering was deeply etched onto his lean face. He looked unrecognizable. Almost feral. And his behaviour wasn't that of my Sam, but that of a stranger.

"You never cared about my Emily ... Never gave _her _a chance or tried to get on with her for my sake ... _She_ never did anything to deserve your hate ... your jealousy- "

"S-Sam ... _don't ! _D-Don't do this ... _Please, _this isn't you- "

My broken pleas only served to infuriate him further. I sank to my knees under the onslaught. It was something I never imagined doing. Allowing someone to beat me up again. Especially after all of the years of violence and physical abuse at the hands of my old man. Hell ! After I'd first phased, I'd sworn to myself, made a goddamn fucking promise, that I'd never be a victim again. That I'd never let myself get into a situation that would weaken or make me vulnerable. Yet here I was, lying curled up in the foetal position, at my Alpha's feet, with one arm wrapped protectively around my head and the other around my abdomen. Battered, bloody and bruised. I suddenly felt Sam's foot slam into my lower back and I closed my eyes so that he wouldn't see the tears which were threatening to fall. It was sheer agony. I gasped sharply as Sam's foot connected once more with my ribs. By now, my breathing was ragged and I had a nasty feeling that one of my ribs was broken. Sam was giving me a thorough going over and I felt like a human punchbag.

Suddenly, I heard Sam fall to his knees behind my shoulders. He leant down and snarled furiously in my ear. A trace of spittle fell upon my earlobe, then slowly trickled down the side of my neck and I couldn't ignore the way his breath reeked of stale Budweiser and Jack Daniels.

"Shut up ! _Just shut the fuck up ! _You don't get to speak ... To lie to me. I don't want to hear your bullshit." He paused for an instant and inhaled deeply in a vain attempt to calm down. "Have you any fucking idea how uncomfortable you made Em feel ? How hurt _she_ was by your vindictive behaviour when all she ever wanted was to be your friend ?"

_My lies ? _My bullshit ? How hurt _she_ was ? _She_ wanted to be my friend ? That was a load of fucking crap if ever I heard any ... Oh, the bitch had been so good at deceiving Sam. So _very _good at it. That lying, malicious skank was _still_ able to ruin my life, even from beyond the fucking grave. She managed to twist everything around, distort Sam's judgement and paint me as the villain of the piece in one fell swoop. And the fact that Sam had been suckered into swallowing all that crap hurt. Truly hurt. If it had been any other person, anyone but Sam, mouthing off and falsely accusing me of all this crap, I wouldn't have hesitated to drop him. To kick the fucking shit out of him. But this was Sam. _My _imprint. And no matter what he did, how badly he hurt me, I could never harm Sam. Even in self-defence. Imprinting on Sam had rendered me helpless against him. He was my Achilles' heel and _always_ would be. Lost in thought, I was vaguely aware of Sam's voice rumbling behind me, yet I didn't hear what he said. Instead of focusing on his words, I merely wrapped my arms tightly around my midriff in an attempt to hold myself together and to try to will away the pain.

"Get up ! I said get your lazy, selfish ass up. _Now !_"

Not wanting to rile my Alpha further, I struggled to obey his demand only for my trembling arms to give way beneath me. Another impatient warning growl rang in my ears, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. Then I felt a warm hand jerk me backwards before I was abruptly yanked to my feet and unceremoniously hauled up to the couch.

"You push me too far, cub. Time you realized who's top dog here ... and remembered who's Alpha."

The hand suddenly came to rest between my bare shoulder blades and pushed me forwards, effectively trapping my throbbing dick between my belly and the back of the couch. Sam suddenly kicked my legs apart and nudged a thick, muscular thigh between mine. A sinewy forearm slipped around my torso, drawing me to him until my back was flush against his chest. His hands grabbed my hips roughly and were sure to leave even more bruises and he began to grind his hips against my ass. I was immediately aware of his hard, thick length rubbing against me. Desperately craving friction. And that's when I caught the heavy scent of arousal in the air.

Sam's hands began to claw at my cutoffs. He hastily unfastened them, then pushed the soft denim material impatiently down my hips and thighs. As soon as the cool air hit my heated flesh, I realized what his intentions were and after trying to half-heartedly buck him away from me, I gave in. I couldn't deny him this, not if he wanted and needed release so badly. Closing my eyes, I sadly realized what I'd dreamt of, what I'd craved all these months since I'd imprinted on Sam, was about to become stark reality ... just not in the way I'd hoped. I was about to be taken for the first time by the one I adored. By my best friend. My Alpha. My imprint. Not out of love, but out of savage need ... a need fueled by anger, grief and loss. That I'd only be a substitute for the one he truly loved, wanted and needed. That I was nothing to him. And 'cause I was nothing, I didn't have feelings ... or at least ones that mattered.

The slithering sound of a zip being undone, followed by the rustle of denim sliding down sleek, muscular thighs and toned calves was deafening. As I was already feeling antsy, all my senses were heightened. Every sound, touch and smell was magnified. Became more intense. I couldn't help being acutely aware of Sam's closeness; his tantalizing, musky scent; the heat of his powerful frame enveloping mine; the weight of his body pressed intimately against mine; the way his callused fingers raised goosebumps across my needy, sensitive skin, never mind the feel of his rock-hard shaft, painfully swollen, brushing the cleft of my ass.

Sam's hands briefly left my hips, then I heard him spit. The sound of skin stroking skin quickly followed, before his left hand came to rest on the small of my back, holding me firmly in place. I suddenly froze as I felt his free hand slip between our bodies and begin to part my butt cheeks before aligning his spit-coated cock against my puckered, virginal hole. My breath immediately hitched at the sensation of Sam's pre-cum dripping against my sensitized flesh as his tense body covered mine. Even though I trembled in anticipation, I had to give Sam the chance to pull back. If Sam was in his right mind, there was no way he'd behave like this ... would try to take advantage of me and abuse our friendship and my trust.

"S-Sam ?" I slowly turned to look at him and gasped as that slight movement pulled against my bruised ribs. "Please ... think before you do anything crazy. You don't want this ... You don't want m- ... Aaagh !"

The initial burn I felt as Sam silently rammed into me, breaching my inner ring of muscle, hurt like hell. I'd never felt pain like it. I tensed at the intrusion and the sheer length of him, his impressive girth, felt as if it were splitting me in two. My body began to tremble and I bowed my head and closed my eyes to prevent him from seeing my tears. I braced myself against the back of the couch and breathed through my nose as Sam gave me a brief moment to adjust before beginning to thrust silently. Gradually, the intense pain eased into mild discomfort as I got more used to the feel of him inside me. Then I caught a faint, metallic scent in the air. It was blood. My breath hitched once more. It was no wonder the pain had eased.

Sam's silence was punctuated every so often by the odd growl and groan. He continued to thrust, motivated by his anguish and sorrow and concentrated purely on his own release. Then without warning, he changed his angle of penetration. I suddenly saw stars as he began to unerringly and continuously strike at the tiny bundle of nerves deep within my core sending waves of endless pleasure coursing through my entire body. I began to thrust back onto Sam, writhing desperately against him. Craving more friction. All I could hear were the soft moans of euphoria that were wrung from my own lips and Sam panting heavily as his thrusts became faster, harder and deeper as he sought his own release. I felt Sam's left hand cover mine and overcome by the overwhelming sensations he made me feel, I couldn't stop myself from lacing my fingers with his. Sam's thrusts became more erratic and he suddenly pulled us both up, his right arm draping my shoulder and falling across my chest and his fingers absently pulling and tweaking my nipples, causing them to harden. I was slightly shorter than Sam and my head fell back to rest against his shoulder, rolling to one side to submissively bare my throat to him.

I whimpered as Sam's teeth tugged at my earlobe before grazing a path down my neck, pausing only to sharply nip along my jugular. And that's when he brutally struck my prostate, causing my knees to buckle with pleasure and my balls to draw up. I came hard. Harder than I'd ever done before. Silently screaming Sam's name in a mantra as my right hand held his right hip in a death-grip. My inner walls clenched in a vice-like grip around his shaft. Squeezing his essence out of him mercilessly. Milking him dry.

"Fuck !" Sam came violently with a loud roar, his hips jerking spasmodically against mine as he nuzzled my throat. His right arm tightened around my chest making the hold both possessive and unbreakable, his nails dug in to my chest, raking the skin. Not that I wanted to be free of him in any way. Drained, I slumped against him gasping deeply for breath, only to start as his teeth sank into the sensitive hollow where my neck joined my shoulder, drawing blood.

Not long after that, I felt Sam withdraw from me. I winced as his flacid cock dragged out of my overly sensitive, abused ass, causing the excess bloodstained cum to trickle down my inner thigh. I eyed him warily, waiting for his next move. For him to say something. I don't know what I expected from him, but I knew it wouldn't involve being wined and dined and romanced. But after the intimacy we'd shared - which lacked tenderness and was based on pure animalistic lust - I never expected him to respond the way he did. Sam turned his back on me and began to stalk towards the bathroom, pausing only to pick up an unopened bottle of Bud.

Not bothering to look back at me as I clung weakly to the back of the couch, Sam paused at the bathroom door. Just watching his tall, muscular, naked body was enough to have me salivating and despite feeling rather sore, yearning to feel him pounding inside me again.

"This was a fucking mistake ..." he growled, whilst carding his fingers through his dark hair. "By the time I've finished, I expect you to collect your shit and not be here. I want you gone ... Don't bother coming back ... Just stay the fuck away from me, Paul ... for good."

If the pain I'd suffered before was bad, it was nothing compared to the searing ache I felt now. My heart shattered completely. Totally numb, I could only stare in silence at my imprint's retreating figure, jumping slightly as he slammed the door closed behind him. There was nothing I could do. I _couldn't_ disobey ... not when my imprint had used the Alpha command to order me to leave. To stay away from him. I had_ no _choice. Sam had given me no choice. He'd taken whatever hope I had and dashed it. Crushed my dreams. He'd rejected me.

Completely devastated and blinded by my tears, I impatiently dashed them away then bent down to grab my cutoffs off the floor. The sudden movement made me grimace with discomfort as did the tightness in my chest. I stumbled unsteadily towards the door and left without a word. If that was what my imprint wanted, that's what he would get. From now on, I was going to stay away from him ... even if it damned well killed me.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

_**Paul's pov:**_

It was dark by the time I finally limped back home ... and considering the thorough seeing to my imprint had given me, limping was all I was good for. I was in no shape to do anything else ...

After Sam forced me to leave his cabin, to stay away from him for good, I wandered around aimlessly. In a complete daze. I won't lie, but I was devastated by his rejection. My world, what was left of it, came crashing all around me as soon as I heard those cold, cruel words ... the finality in the tone of his voice and the grim determination of his stance only reinforced his decision. I ached when Sam said what had happened - what we'd shared - was nothing but a "fucking mistake" ... and to hear him softly snarl, "By the time I've finished, I expect you to collect your shit and not be here. I want you gone ... Don't bother coming back ... Just stay the fuck away from me, Paul ... for good," literally broke me.

I'd hoped and in hindsight, I'd been naive wishing for it, that even if Sam didn't want me the way that I longed for and craved him, that at least he'd forgive me ... that we could remain friends. But now it was obvious that he didn't want to. That he didn't care about our friendship, our brotherhood ... about me. The way he avoided my gaze earlier as he kicked me out of his home ... and refused to turn around and look at me as he did so, gave away his feelings and his thoughts about me all too clearly. I was nothing to him. He hated me.

Eventually, I found myself at the end of the path to my house, staring blindly at it and having no recollection how I'd gotten there. It was the sound of furious yelling and the sharp crack of skin connecting with skin which halted me in my tracks. The old man was loaded as usual and taking out his bitter frustrations and anger on my mom - again. Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, I ducked around the side of the house and heard the front door open then suddenly slam closed. My dad staggered outside clutching a bottle of Jack and unsteadily made his way towards his truck, cussing and badmouthing my mom with every step he took. I watched him clamber into the truck and it wasn't long before I heard the old rust bucket fire into life and he recklessly tore off the Res towards Forks. And as I watched him leave, it wasn't for the first time in my life that I absently wished that he'd end up wrapped around a lamp post or crashed into a tree ... not just for my sake, but for my mom's.

I know wishing my dad dead will never help me win "Son of the Year," but for nineteen years he's never done anything to earn my respect or my love. My mom may be weak and frightened, but at least she loves me in her own way ... even though she dares not show it in front of him. And I don't want her to, 'cause when it boils down to it, he's a possessive bastard ... A jealous bully who just wants her at his beck and call and no one else's ... and he's been like that since the day I was born. Hell ! My mom's only thirty seven and from all accounts, she used to be a right looker. A real stunner. She's still pretty, but her beauty's faded. It's lost its vibrancy as she always looks tired and browbeaten. And that's all down to him - the piece of scum she got hitched to, after falling pregnant on the very same night she lost her virginity to him.

I just can't help feeling that things would've been different for mom if I was never in the picture. If I hadn't been born. Maybe her life would've been better ... that she'd have had some chance of happiness. That my old man would've cut her some slack. That he'd be less of a bastard to her. But for all her timidity and her introverted nature, as soon as she realized he'd knocked her up, she rebelled for the first and only time against him. Mom fought to keep me. Defiantly refused to have me aborted or adopted after I was born. And he never forgave or forgot that one act of rebellion ... that one act of love she showed someone other than him. And that's why the vindictive pig's treated us both like shit ever since ...

But now ? Feeling the way I do, I wish mom hadn't fought for me. That she hadn't loved me so much and kept me. That she'd put herself first for once. 'Cause thanks to that one act of defiance, I'm still alive. Still hurting ... and still aching for Sam. If only she'd given in to what the old reprobate wanted ... that she'd done as he'd demanded. That she'd got rid of me. I honestly feel I'd've been better off if I hadn't been born. At least then I wouldn't be suffering this torment ... this torture of having to stay away from the one person that's my entire world. I wouldn't have to put up with this fucking imprint screwing with me or feel as if I'm slowly, but surely, dying from the inside. And I do feel that way. I genuinely wish I was dead ... 'cause if I can't be with Sam, if I can't be around him, hear, see or even smell him, then my life has no meaning. It has no fucking purpose and everything and anything else is just frickin' pointless ...

It's only been a couple of hours since Sam told me to "stay the fuck away" from him and I'm already starting to feel as if I'm going crazy ... The fact that he used the Alpha command to force me to do what he wanted, is seriously tearing me apart. And knowing I can't fight against it is like fucking torture ... of the worst kind. I'm not sure what hurts the most right now. Whether the physical pain outweighs the mental and emotional agony I'm going through. All I do know is that I've never felt anything like it. With a deep sigh, I wrapped both arms carefully around my battered torso, grimacing at the sharp stab of pain as they came into contact with my ribs. That sudden agonizing spasm confirmed what I suspected earlier, that I'd either cracked or busted a couple of ribs. And the dull, constant ache in my chest was matched by the one in my nethers and served as a cruel reminder of the need, the desire and the love I had for my imprint.

Thanks to my acute hearing, I could hear mom shuffle unsteadily in the living room as she softly wept and it was all too easy to picture the anguish that ravaged her pretty, tear-stained face. I closed my eyes and sagged against the wall, wanting more than anything to go to and comfort her as I always had. But this time, I didn't. I couldn't. I held back and stayed away. Right now I couldn't deal with my mom and her problems, 'cause for once, I had my own shit to deal with ... and I was barely coping with it as it was. So, instead of barging in through the front door as I usually did, I took the coward's way out. I climbed up the back porch and sneaked in through my bedroom window, then slowly headed for the bathroom and locked the door.

_**XXXXX**_

Once I'd taken sanctuary in the bathroom, I hastily stripped off my stained cutoffs and hurled them into the dirty linen basket. As soon as I did it, I regretted it. I quickly rifled through the basket and pulled out the cutoffs, knowing no matter how thoroughly they were washed that I'd never be able to wear them again. Nope, as soon as mom had gone to bed I planned on burning them. There was no way in hell I was going to cling on to something that would just serve as a callous reminder of what I'd lost ... what I'd never have. I may be desperate, but I sure as hell ain't that dumb ...

Wincing, I moved slowly towards the shower and turned on the water. I was all too aware that I lacked my usual grace, that thanks to the persistent, dull ache in my loins every move I made was hesitant. Cautious even. As I waited for the water to reach the right temperature, I found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror and my hands tightly gripping the edge of the sink beneath it until my knuckles turned white. I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of loss ... of feeling lost and so very alone. Of rejection and abandonment. A wave of grief came over me, leaving me breathless and my heart began to constrict.

I must've stood with my head bowed for at least five minutes, 'cause by the time I finally looked up the mirror had misted up. After I'd wiped the condensation away with a trembling hand, I accidentally caught a glimpse of my reflection and was shocked by what I saw. In just a matter of hours, there was a sallow tinge to my russet skin and my eyes appeared haunted and cloaked with anguish and torment. I was a ghost of myself. And then there was my overall appearance ... Physically, I looked like crap. Like I'd gone ten rounds with a professional heavyweight boxer and come out of it on the losing side. There wasn't a part of me not covered in bruises, bites or scratches. It was as if I'd become the official poster boy for the walking wounded. Even after all the beatings I'd gotten off the old man, I'd never looked this bad. Nope, my beloved imprint had really outdone himself ... and had really done a number on me. One that I'd been physically, mentally and emotionally unable to stop or even defend myself. 'Cause when all's said and done, Sam's my imprint and I could never raise a hand to him ... no matter how badly he wronged me.

As I studied my reflection, I noticed most of the bruises were beginning to fade and would be gone by the next day and that the majority of the scratches and bites were already healing. Yet despite my healing ability, two still remained unaffected. The bruises on my hips, where Sam had possessively gripped them as he'd ruthlessly taken me, were particularly livid. But the mark which worried me the most was the bite situated at the base of my neck where it joined the shoulder. It was deep and vicious and unlike the other bites which had started to heal, still continued to smart and weep heavily. I gave a tremulous sigh and tentatively began to examine the bite. I'd barely laid a finger on its edge when the damn thing began to burn fiercely. Flinching at the pain, I quickly withdrew my finger and clumsily backed away from the mirror, my gaze fixed firmly on the bite and my brow furrowed by confusion. I only came to an abrupt halt when my back came into contact with the glass door of the shower cubicle. The vibration of the glass against my bare skin quickly drew me out of my daze as did the sound of continuous running water.

Five minutes later, I stood in the shower with my arms outstretched before me, braced against the cool, white, tiled wall. I revelled in the sensation of the hot spray as it cascaded past my shoulders and down my back. All I wanted was to feel cleansed. To have the spray's heat numb my pain if only for a short while. And it almost worked ... 'til my mind drifted and I imagined Sam's furious growl echoing in my head, its tone deep, sexy and commanding. After that, it was all too easy to recall his attractively musky scent; the feel of his powerful frame covering mine and his granite-hard length pounding mercilessly in me, unerringly striking my prostrate with every stroke. And that's when it all got too much for me. I broke down completely.

Before I realized what had happened, my knees buckled and my body had slid down against the surface of the wall. Drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, I sat huddled in the corner of the shower, oblivious to the wet floor and the spray which continued to drench me. Then without warning, my body began to tremble. The violent shakes that racked my torso were immediately followed by a broken sob and the next thing I knew, my forehead was resting against my forearms and I was crying helplessly ... bawling like a little kid. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stop the tears from falling.

_**XXXXX**_

**Two weeks later.**

_**Leah's pov:**_

God ! I'm knackered !

Thanks to those damn leeches - or as my Jake insists I call them, the Cullens and whiny, little Miss "the-whole-world-_has_-to-revolve-around-me" Swan - we're getting way more rogue vampire activity than normal. It doesn't help that we're a wolf down, thanks to Sam still being m.i.a. unfortunately, that means some of us have been pulling double shifts with the patrols. Hell ! It's not been easy having to cope with all the added crap those sparkly parasites cause and it's the likes of Jake, Embry, Jared, Paul and myself that have had to take up the slack. Well, we can't easily expect the younger Pack members to do extra patrols and deal with school as well, can we ? It wouldn't be fair to them. But it's tough and it stinks to high heaven that 'cause those bloodsuckers have their heads permanently wedged up their asses and won't take the hint to just fuck off from our turf, we have to put our lives on hold and constantly at risk and that seriously hacks me off ... especially when it eats into any potential quality time I have with Jake or with the rest of my family. Er, did I mention just how deeply I hate fucking vamps ? Or was I being rather too subtle about it ?

Anyhoo, Paul, god love him, has really been putting in the hours when it comes to patrolling. But lately, something seems "off" about him. Kinda like he's not firing on all cylinders. And that's just not like him. Ok, so he can be a hard, arrogant bastard. A really snarky, badass motherfucker. But when it comes down to the wire, when it really matters, Paul Lahote is actually a great Beta, simply 'cause he always has the back of each and every Pack member and even though we may fight and squabble amongst ourselves, we all know Paul would lay his life on the line for all of us 'cause for him, the Pack's his family. He may act like he doesn't give a shit, but our feisty hothead genuinely cares about us ... even if he always tends to vehemently deny it !

Like I said, our Paulie's definitely not been himself over these past two weeks. He's been - and this is extremely unusual for him - extremely quiet and subdued and no matter how hard he tries to hide it from the rest of us, hasn't been phasing as often as he should. And another thing that worries me, is that his eyes appear permanently shrouded with hurt and confusion ... and that's so not like him. But the real shocker is that he's "off" his food. Paul Lahote, the Pack's resident "bottomless pit," has lost his insatiable appetite for all things edible ... Something I never dreamt I'd see in this lifetime.

So now, instead of just worrying about our errant Alpha, I'm stressing over our Beta as well. At least I know why Sam's behaving the way he is and I can understand why he's acting the way he does. But Paul ? Well ... honestly ? I'm truly at a loss. I'm absolutely, utterly and completely fucked if I know what's wrong with him ...

_**XXXXX**_

OMG ... OMG. _Oh-My-fucking-God ! _Ooh ka-ay ... now I'm officially starting to get worried. _That_ was my initial response to what I saw earlier today.

**FLASHBACK**

I'd just finished morning patrol with Paul and unusually for me, was patiently waiting for him to shift back so I could try to persuade him to come back to mine to eat with me and Jake. I know I always used to give him hell for eating like a pig at a trough, but now for fuck's sake, I'd give my eye teeth just to see him eat for once. Paul's love for food was notorious. His hunger voracious but lately, seeing him just pick at his meals and absently push it around his plate in a half-assed pretence at eating, is wigging me out. Before, he used to devour all that was laid in front of him and as he had the fastest metabolism - and a cast-iron stomach - out of all of the Pack, he'd quickly burn off any fat and was just sleek, toned muscle. But now ? Now he hardly eats a thing ... and boy, does it fucking show ...

I'd quickly tossed on a pair of skimpy denim cutoffs and a clean t-shirt and waited in the clearing for Paul to show his face, when I heard a painful retching sound from behind the bushes where Paul had ducked behind to get dressed. Curious, I walked up to the spot and to my horror saw something I never thought possible. Something I hardly dared believe.

Doubled up before me, with his arm braced against a tree trunk was our Beta. Paul was spewing up his guts and was clearly unwell. And extreme vomiting was something I'd never seen a shifter do before ... well, not after the first time they shifted. If I'm honest, Paul looked awful. Like shit. In fact, I've seen most of the Pack looking like crap, but that's usually down to injuries following a run in with a vamp, but P. actually looked like someone at death's door. I've never seen him so pale and his skin looked clammy and contrasted sharply with his glassy, yet feverish eyes.

"Fuck, Paul ! What's up with you ? " I walked up to him and lightly laid a hand on his back and began to rub circular patterns on his skin to try and soothe him. He spat and slowly raised his head, then roughly wiped his dry, chapped lips with the back of his hand. The look in his dark, velvety eyes told me everything I needed to know ... He had no idea what was wrong and appeared genuinely freaked out and confused.

"Dunno ... Haven't a goddamn clue, Lee. All I do know is that I feel like crap and I can't keep anything down. Must be some kinda bug or virus ..."

I kept my yap firmly shut. Wolves rarely got ill and if they did, it was usually something pretty big ... and nasty. And the last thing I wanted was our fiery Beta getting a wild hair up his ass over something we knew nothing about.

"Could be, I guess ... Hey ! C'mon, why don't you come back to mine for a bit ? I'll see if mom's got anything in that can help calm your stomach. She's always got all kinds of medicinal crap floating around the house. It might help ...I'll even make you breakfast, if you fancy it later ? What d'ya say ?" I watched him silently straighten up and was shocked to see his movements were graceless and lacked fluidity. He was sluggish and looked absolutely knackered. As if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. "You really should've told me if you weren't up for patrolling. I'd've covered for you, or at least got Jake, Embry or Jared to do your shift. You've done more than your fair share of covering for us over the past few weeks- "

Paul slowly shook his head and gave me a weak, half-hearted grin, "Nah, I'm good, Lee, but thanks ... Think I'll just head on home, y'know ? Try to sleep it off. I won't be the same wolf tomorrow, I swear ..." And to my dismay, he loped off before I even got a chance to gently bully him - for his own good, of course - into seeing things my way.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

So, that's when I realized something was genuinely wrong with him. It definitely wasn't like Paul to turn down free food or head off to bed just to catch up on some zzzz's. Nope, something wasn't right and I meant to get to the bottom of it and help him ... whether our grumpy, independant Beta liked it or not !


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

**The following day.**

_**Sam's pov:**_

_God ! I'm dying ... That's it. Never again. That's the last time I'm hitting the grog that hard ..._

Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and was suddenly blinded by the glare of white, bathroom floor tiles. Rolling onto my back, I swiftly closed my eyes, then pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger as the incessant throbbing in my head worsened. It felt as if it were splitting in two. I groaned heavily and licked my dry, chapped lips before cautiously getting to my feet and staggering towards the bathroom cabinet. I'd had hangovers in the past, but they were nothing compared to this. All I could think of was that I needed pain relief ... and I needed it fast.

_Tylenol ... Tylenol ... Where the fuck's the goddamn Tylenol ?_

Rifling among the meds in the cabinet, I could feel my frustration levels rising as I failed to find what I was looking for. Suddenly, my fingers brushed against a familiar blue box. Sighing with relief, I realized what I'd found and thanked god for Advil, my new best friend. I quickly poured a glass of water and popped one of those blessed orange tablets, draining the glass dry in the process. After rinsing the glass and leaving it on top of the sink, I let the water run then splashed it on my face in the vain hope that it would begin to help sober me up, before quickly cleaning my teeth to scour away the nasty taste of sour whisky that tainted my breath. Afterwards, I staggered into the living room with the sole intention of crashing on the couch and sleeping off the hangover from hell. Weaving around the empty beer bottles on the floor was like navigating the ocean during its worst storm. It was perilous at best ... catastrophic at its worst.

By the time I reached the couch & slumped on top of it, my head was spinning again. The light that seeped into the room was far too bright. Groaning softly in protest, I closed my eyes and covered them with my forearm.

_That's it,_ I vowed to myself, _from now on, I'm officially off the hooch. _

I winced at the memory of how many empty bottles littered the living room and how I could still smell the aroma of Jack Daniels hanging heavily in the air around me. The smell alone was enough to burn my nostrils and made my empty stomach lurch uneasily. At twenty two and being the oldest member of the Pack, I _should've_ known better. Should've _known_ that although I was the only one legally allowed to drink liquour, that it probably hadn't been one of my best decisions ... even if it did briefly numb the pain I felt and temporarily helped me forget her. To forget Emily. But I hadn't been thinking straight, had I ? And I'm still not thinking straight ... even now ...

My brow furrowed as I mulled over how useless I'd become. How badly I'd let my Pack down ... never mind myself. As I mused, my head rolled to its side against the back of the couch and I suddenly caught a whiff of a scent I hadn't come across for weeks. It was tantalizing. Beguiling. And the most tempting aroma I'd smelled in a long time. It was a scent that I was almost as familiar with as my own. Fresh, yet spicy and alluring. It reminded me of a cool breeze on warm summer nights and of the beach. Of sand, sea and sun and better days. I froze, then immediately sat up in shock as I finally twigged whose scent it was. It belonged to my Beta ... My best friend.

Paul.

And that's when I caught another scent. One that cloaked his. Combined with the strong aroma of whiskey, a faint trace of blood and Paul's intoxicating scent was the unmistakable smell of sex. It was strong. Powerful. And deeply enticing. And to my horror, as I continued to sniff the air, I reeked of it. The speed with which the blood drained from my face, made me feel light-headed. An overwhelming sense of unease swept through me. I could hear my blood roaring in my ears ... my heart pounding wildly and my breathing was harsh and uneven.

_Fuck ! Paul had been here ? _

If my Beta had been here last night, I'd no memory of it. Couldn't even remember seeing or talking to him, thanks to all the alcohol I'd drunk ... Hell ! I was lucky if I could remember which way was up, never mind what day of the week it was. Honestly ? I couldn't be sure when when I'd last seen Paul ... Especially after that huge bust up we'd had at our last Pack meeting. Since then, everything changed drastically between us. Our relationship swiftly deteriorated. My loyal Beta began to distance himself from the Pack and especially from me. He deliberately kept all communication between us to a bare minimum. Before all this shit blew up in our faces, Paul always held my gaze and his dark eyes would have a spark of defiance or spirit in them. But now ? He'd refuse to make eye contact ... would avert his gaze or do anything rather than look at me. And if he did meet my gaze, his soulful, molasses-hued orbs appeared distant and lifeless and lacked their fire. In the past, Paul would be the life and soul of the Pack. Mouthy and opinionated. Savvy and street-smart. Quick witted and funny. But after I'd publicly chewed him out and torn him a new one, he'd become silent and withdrawn. Would only speak curtly when spoken to during Pack meets and once those were over, he'd be gone as fast as lightning. He'd never hang out afterwards with the Pack and he'd always refuse to eat anything Em made for us ... would raise his eyebrow and sneer in contempt before silently sloping off on yet another patrol.

Like I said, Paul Lahote changed from a fiesty, free spirit into a sullen, brooding lone wolf practically overnight with no explanation at all. And I hated the change in him. Hated the way he was so determined to ignore me, as well as his glacial, cruelly sarcastic and hurtful attitude towards Emily. I hated the way I was slowly, but surely, losing my best friend and Pack brother. And I had no way of stopping it ... It was out of my hands and out of my control ... And the worst thing about it all ? Despite Paul's cold reserve and animosity, I missed him terribly and just wanted my best friend back. But Paul ? He was being his usual stubborn bastard self about the whole damn thing and refused to play ball ... And other than Alpha commanding him to stay by my side - which was something I was loathe to do as I wanted him to do it of his own free will 'cause he wanted to - there was damn all I could do about it.

Closing my eyes, I took a calming breath before attempting another trip down a certain long African river. There was no way in hell Paul had been here. My mind was playing tricks on me. I'd imagined it. I _must_ have. But as soon as I inhaled deeply once more, that certain enticing scent became more intense and proved me wrong. There was no way I could deny it. For some reason known only to himself, Paul _had_ been here.

I couldn't get my head around why my Beta had suddenly decided to turn up on my doorstep. Not when he'd been so grimly and perversely determined to avoid me at all cost over the past few weeks. But thanks to his scent, I couldn't deny that he'd come to me ... and once I realized the blood I'd smelled earlier was his, I quickly sobered up. I suddenly felt sick to the bottom of my stomach. All too aware that my best friend had been here ... had left without a word ... And the worst thing of all, is that I _may_ have hurt him badly - maybe even raped him - and I couldn't remember any of it. Just the thought that I was capable of doing something so abhorrent, so heinous, to someone who meant a great deal to me, filled me with self-loathing and disgust. I hated not being able to recall last night's goings on ... that everything and anything that may have happened was beyond my grasp ... as elusive and intangible as smoke or mist. And the more I thought back, the more the truth eluded me.

Groaning softly, I sat forward with my elbows resting on my knees and bowing my head, I covered my face with my palms. Paul's scent combined with his blood and the odour of sex, musk and sweat taunted me. Made me feel guilty as hell over a crime I may or may not have committed. Not knowing how badly I'd hurt Paul ate away at me. And I'd always hated being kept in the dark or not knowing things. I took a deep, ragged breath and dragged a trembling hand slowly down my face. Whether I wanted to or not, I _needed_ to know what had happened between us ... I had to, otherwise I'd go crazy. And in order to avoid just that, I needed confirmation. Verified proof from, surprize, surprize, the one person who was hellbent on avoiding me. Paul. And my gut was already screaming at me how unlikely that would be, now that I'd apparently crossed a line with my Beta. That helping me and confirming how I'd probably seriously fucked up would be the last thing he'd want to do ... That I'd be - if I even rated that dubious honour - the last thing on Paul's list of priorities. And I was all too aware what Paul's response would be to that request. It was a no-brainer. Paul -_ if _I ever managed to get him to talk to me - wouldn't hesitate to tell me in no uncertain terms to fuck off and leave him alone ... and he'd be well within his rights to do so.

No matter how I looked at the situation, I was seriously screwed.

_**XXXXX**_

**A week later.**

_**Leah's pov:**_

I really can't help worrying about Paul. He's not been himself for weeks now and the poor bastard looks fucking awful. It's as if he's slowly wasting away before me and lost the will to live and it's not like our resident loudmouth to be so quiet ... so reticent. But he is. He's become withdrawn and unhappiness positively radiates off him. Especially if you bother to look into his eyes. They're by far his best assets. Stunningly beautiful, dark like molasses. Deep and mysterious. Brimming with sharp intelligence and sparkling with mischief. They're mesmerizing. And once upon a time, he'd never fail to use them to his advantage. But not anymore. Now, they're circled with dark shadows caused by lack of sleep. And where they once glowed with life and passion, they now appear lifeless. Numb. Though every once in a while, if you catch him in a rare, unguarded moment you may just see a fleeting glimmer of overwhelming pain and intense anguish that takes your breath away and you find your heart slowly begins to break for him. And then, all too quickly, that look's gone. Vanished. Leaving you at a complete loss and unsure if you've imagined it in the first place.

I can tell something's desperately wrong with him. Hell ! I can fucking feel it. It's tangible. He doesn't do it deliberately though. In fact, he desperately goes out of his way to avoid showing or sharing his feelings with anyone, so it's not as if he's doing it deliberately or with the sole purpose to make everyone else miserable ... 'cause he doesn't. But I can't help feeling hurt, 'cause he's hurting and after Jake and Seth, Paul happens to be one of the few people I care about deeply. So, when our big, bad wolf's suffering, I share his pain. I just wish he'd confide in me. That he'd share his thoughts and feelings instead of going through all this alone. 'Cause watching Paul like this damn near breaks my heart and I can't stand seeing him in such torment. I _really _want to help him, to be there for him and so far, for me, I've been pretty patient with him. But now ? Now, I've had enough. I'd intended to wait 'til he was willing to let me in ... for him to confide in me and tell me what was really bugging him. And I felt helpless knowing I couldn't do anything 'til Paul was inclined to let me help him. So now, I'm going to prove that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and that I'm not Sue Clearwater's daughter for nothing ... I'm going to get to the bottom of this and find out what has my "brother" slowly dying before my very eyes and put a fucking stop to it. 'Cause whether our Paulie wants it or not, he's getting my help and support 'cause to put it simply, he's family ... and I love him dearly.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Paul's pov:**_

I just don't get it ... I don't understand. It's been over two freakin' weeks, for crying out loud ... I _should _be better by now. But I'm not. If anything I feel even worse than I did at the beginning. Virus, my fucking ass ! This ain't no bug ... if it was, it'd be long gone after twenty four hours. And if I'm honest, it's seriously freaking me out.

It just doesn't make sense. Then again, nothing makes much sense to me these days. I'm constantly tired. I daren't admit it, but I feel listless and lethargic ... even weak. And for a wolf, those are really bad things to feel. The most worrying thing is my loss of appetite. Nothing appeals to me any more. I'm not even tempted. And for me, the Pack's resident glutton, that's virtually unheard of. But the worst thing is if I dare to eat something, I can't keep it down. And that scares me. A lot ...

I know I look like shit ... that my body's changing. Deteriorating. My russet skin has a sickly pallor. I've lost a helluva lot of weight and my muscle tone's not as defined as it was. Shit ! If anything, my body's more lithe. It's wiry and sleek ... more athletic, unlike the rest of the Pack's pumped up, gym bunny look. I dunno if I'm imagining it or if I'm slowly going crazy, but I'd swear on my life that I've also shrunk. _Fucking shrunk ! _Impossible, I know ... but I have. Somewhere along the line, I've lost essential inches ... I'm shorter, only slightly taller than our feisty she-wolf and I can't help hoping that no one else has noticed that. Yup, it's very naive of me ... but I know damn well that once my Pack brothers spot that, then I'm in for a world of endless ribbing and piss taking.

Having to stay away from my precious imprint's not doing my health any good either. I really - and I mean really - miss Sam. I miss his company and the way his calm presence always soothes my volatile, hair-trigger temper. And that's not all I fucking miss ... I just want to see him. To feast my eyes on him. Devour him. I long to hear his gruff, husky voice. To listen to that deep, sexy growl ... the one that makes my toes curl with need and desire. Want to smell his clean, virile, musky scent with its woodsy, citrusy undertones. To feel his large, powerful body wrapped possessively, protectively, around mine and for that hard, silken length to take me to nirvana. Want to taste Sam's lips, to lick that glistening sheen of perspiration from the broad expanse of his smooth chest. But I can't. His Alpha command denies me any of that. I'm left with a hunger for him that's impossible to satiate and a constant craving to be with the one who's effectively my entire world. One who's banished me from his presence ... permanently.

Damn ! I wish I could hate Sam for what he's done to me. For the sake of my sanity, if nothing else. But I can't. He's the reason why I'm like this. Why I'm a broken shell of a man. A lone wolf who's wasting away without its soul mate. If anyone else had treated me so badly, I wouldn't have hesitated to point the finger of blame firmly at them. But this is Sam, my imprint and I can't ... I just can't. And my excuse for that ? It's 'cause I love him. I love him with every fibre of my being. He's everything to me ... even though I clearly mean nothing to him.

So, that's why I'm on another patrol. Anything to distract me ... to try to take my mind off my imprint. To not have to think of him. Stupid of me, I know. It's futile even to try as all imprinted wolves know without a shadow of a doubt that their imprints are the be all and end all of their lives. Their imprint is what gives them purpose ... gives their lives meaning. And Sam's effectively stripped me of all of that and laid me fucking bare. Left me at my lowest. Weak. Powerless. And what I'd always feared the most ... vulnerable. 'Cause when I'm vulnerable, I act irrationally. Without thought. And without thought or care, I'm reckless ... and that makes me a danger to not only myself but to others too.

I still feel like absolute shit and I can't help feeling guilty over how upset and worried Leah'd be if she knew I'd gone out on patrol without telling her. But that's all I'm good for now. Patrolling. It's all I have left. I've nothing ... have nothing to look forward to, to live for, unlike my Pack brothers and sister who've all happily imprinted. I envy them. Deeply. They all have what I long for. What I desperately crave. Someone they love and who loves them in return ... while I have fuck all. I'm the first wolf in recent Quileute history to be rejected by his imprint. To be denied love, hope and happiness. To be deemed unworthy of all that. And it hurts like hell ... to know that I'm not good enough or deserve any of those things.

Like I said, all I'm good for these days is patrolling and I'm starting to have my doubts about that too. I've not been feeling so hot and if Leah knew I wasn't home supposedly resting, she'd kick my furry butt well 'n' truly into touch. Don't get me wrong, I love Lee to bits, as if she were my own flesh 'n' blood, but ... I just wish she'd give all the "mother hen-ing" thing a rest already as she can be one frighteningly over-protective bitch when it comes to those she cares for. And that can be really overwhelming and pretty daunting if you happen to be the poor bastard she's decided to take charge of. So, if she gets wind about just how rough I feel she's going to go bat-shit crazy on my ass.

For some reason, I've been getting lots of headaches over the past couple of days. Bad ones. Couple those with the tight, crushing sensation I feel around my chest, the odd moments of breathlessness and the continuous bouts of nausea and constant vomiting, no wonder I'm beginning to feel I'd be better off dead. Thank god I've only ten more minutes to go before Jared and Seth take over from me, 'cause right now I'm starting to think Leah had a good point about me staying home. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud, but Leah was right. I should've been in bed or at least within sprinting distance to my new bff in the bathroom, who I'd gotten intimately acquainted with over the past few weeks.

Suddenly, I'm struck by an unexpected wave of intense pain. It sears and courses through my veins like fire, forcing me to shift back into human form and fall to my knees. By now, my chest's tighter than usual and I begin to gasp frantically for air. I ache all over and the pain makes me feel lightheaded. All I can hear is incessant buzzing in my ears and sounds I usually recognize, I can't tell apart.

The last thought I have before falling into darkness is, "_Shit !_ I'm _so_ dead ... Leah's going to fucking kill me ..."


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Ok, just a slight warning that I _may_ have taken liberty with the Pack legends according to Saul Black's journal.

Saul's journal and its contents are the product of _my_ warped imagination and more than likely don't fit in with S Meyer's or anyone else's ideas for the Pack. Then again, it's crucial to what happens next in this fic as it explains what our favourite hothead's experiencing. The way I figure it is if sparkly vampires are able to reproduce, then I'm allowed my own take on Pack myth ... even if it's totally crazy !

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter V**

_**Leah's pov:**_

"Ok ... Ok ... Knock it off already. I'm coming, for god's sake ! Sheesh ! Some people can be so fucking impatient ... "

Grumbling, I hastily tugged on a black, towelling robe and tightened and knotted its sash around my waist, before heading for the stairs. To say that I was ticked off was putting it mildly. Why is is whenever I manage to get some spare time - a little "me" time - some idiot always screws it up for me ? I mean, it's not as if I ask for much, for crying out loud ... Honestly ... Jake hadn't come back from Forks with Embry yet, so I decided to take full advantage of his absence and make the most of having the house to myself ... in other words, I was going to pamper myself for once.

Anyhoo, I'd only been in the bath for ten minutes or so, intent on making the most of the peace and quiet. The phone was off the hook, the blinds drawn closed and the only light that graced the room came from the numerous scented candles I'd lit. With a contented sigh, I slid beneath the bubbles and allowed the hot, perfumed water to work its magic on my poor, aching muscles. It was bliss ... Sheer, absolute bliss. I was in heaven ... or I would've been, if it hadn't been for that damned racket being inflicted on my front door.

I was roughly half-way down the stairs when the knocking became even more frantic and by now, I was seriously pissed. Whoever had the balls to tear me away from my precious bath was so going to cop it in the neck.

"Alright ... alright ... Give it a rest, for fuck's sake !" I swung the door open, only to have Seth push hastily past me. "Seth Clearwater, you better have a damn good excuse for dragging me down here, or so help me you're a dead wolf- "

"S-Sorry, Lee ... D-Didn't have much choice ... Em-Emergency ..." My baby brother gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling agitatedly. He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed hard, before leaning against the banister.

"Emergency ? What emergency ? What's going on Seth ?" I demanded, my brow furrowing with worry as I studied him anxiously. Seth was clearly upset, shocked even, by something. "Where's Jared ? Thought he was supposed to be with you ... you're both meant to be patrolling together."

"We were ... we _are_ ..." Seth hastily corrected himself, "but- "

"_Seth ! _Tell me ... You're starting to freak me out. Is Jare ok ?"

A deep, rich voice replied gruffly from outside, "I'm fine, Leah ..." Then Jared's familiar, tall, rangy figure strode purposefully through the door. He carefully carried something or rather someone in his arms. "Which is more than can be said for our Beta- "

"_Paul !_" I rushed up to the pair of them and was immediately struck by how fragile and vulnerable our unconscious, naked Beta looked. "What happened ? What's wrong with him ?" I gently laid my palm against Paul's forehead and was shocked to find that his temperature had dropped. That his skin felt cool and clammy against mine. And that was far from normal for a wolf. I pulled back and moved to open the living room door.

"Lay him down ... I'll get some blankets ... He needs to be kept warm." I bolted up the stairs and began to root through the linen cupboard for some clean, thick, warm blankets. By the time I found what I was looking for and got back to the others, Seth and Jared had Paul settled on the couch. Paul was terribly pale and his breathing was laboured. He began to tremble from the cold and I quickly wrapped him in the blankets before turning to face Jared and my brother. I wanted answers. And I wanted them fast.

"So ? Either of you going to tell me what happened ?"

Jared sighed heavily and anxiously rubbed his scalp, then shrugged his broad shoulders helplessly. "Damned if I know, Lee ... Me 'n' Seth just stumbled across him as we started our shift. Paul was like this when we found him."

"Shit ! That can't be good." I exchanged another worried look with Jared and saw the same concerns in his shrewd mocha eyes.

"What can't be good ?" Seth demanded insistently, his gaze flickering to and fro from our stricken, oblivious Beta to us.

"_This, _Seth. Wolves _don't_ get sick. Well, not like this anyway ..." I replied softly then briefly worried my lower lip as I tried to decide what was the best thing to do. "Hey ! I need you to do me a favour, bro. Need you to track Jake down ... I don't care where the hell he is or what the fuck he's doing, I just need you to haul his ass back here. ASAP. Ok ?"

Seth gave me a confused look and a hesitant nod. "Uh, sure thing, sis. I'm on it." And thankfully, for once, he left without arguing.

Slowly, I turned around to face Jared, only to find him sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. He stared intently at its comatose occupant.

"You any idea what's wrong with him ?" Jared asked gruffly, not taking his eyes off Paul for an instant. " 'Cause I've never seen him this bad since he phased."

"Nope." I replied shaking my head and popping the "p" for extra emphasis. "But I sure as hell mean to find out. I've got an idea where to start looking though."

I knelt beside the couch and gently brushed my thumb against Paul's cheek. Being so close to him, it was impossible to ignore how slight he'd become ... that his muscle tone wasn't as robust as it used to be. That instead of looking like the rest of the Pack, who were massive in stature and had bulging biceps, Paul was leaner, not so defined and possessed the more toned, athletic build of a swimmer rather than a body-builder. There was no doubt about it, he looked smaller in comparison to the other wolves ... and not as powerful. As I studied him, my gaze was repeatedly drawn to the vicious bitemark at the vulnerable junction between where his shoulder met with the base of his neck. The weird thing about it was that it didn't look like a recent bite, yet it hadn't healed. The skin around it was a livid shade of red and looked extremely painful. I could only hope for Paul's sake, that it hadn't become infected.

"And that's where Jake comes in ?"

I nodded. "That's where Jake comes in." I could tell Jared's curiosity was piqued, but I wasn't about to satisfy it ... well, not right now. At least not until I knew something for sure. "Can I ask you something, Jay ?" Jared absently nodded. "Why'd ya bring Paul here ? Why not take him home ?"

Shifting uneasily, he sighed once more and carded long, slim fingers through his cropped, dark hair. "Couldn't easily take him home, could we ? Not buck naked and in the state he was in. Would've given his mom a coronary if we had. 'Sides, his old man turned up loaded again. If we'd left Paul there unable to defend himself, the bastard would've kicked the crap out of him. There was no fucking way we were gonna leave him there like that ... Seth said to bring him here. Said you wouldn't mind ... That Paul's family ..."

"Seth's right. P _is_ family ... and I'd've made your lives a living hell if you'd dumped him anywhere else. So, you did right, Jay. Paul stays here with us, 'til we figure out what's up."

Jared calmly held my gaze and remarked softly. "He's lucky to have you fighting his corner, y'know that ? Not many would be willing to put up with Paul's temper or take him in ..."

It was my turn to shrug. "Yeah ... well ... What can I say ? I love Paul. He's my brother ... and I'll stand by him no matter what." I reluctantly rose to my feet, all too aware that any dream I'd had of having a leisurely soak in the tub had become just that. A dream. "Would you mind doing something for me ?"

"Hmmm, sure ..."

"Would you stick around and keep an eye on Paul ? I need to get changed before Jake gets back."

Jared nodded. "Y'know you don't have to ask, Lee. Paul may be a huge pain in the ass, but he's_ our _pain in the ass. I'm going nowhere."

I gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks. Look, chances are we'll be going over to Billy's for a while, so if you get hungry there's food in the kitchen ... and if Paul wakes up, call me, 'k ?"

"Sure thing ..."

I dipped my head in acknowledgement, then hastily tore upstairs to empty the tub and extinguish the candles before swiftly pulling on a pair of denim cutoffs, an old Aerosmith t-shirt and an old pair of comfortable Nikes. Then all I could do was wait for Jake to turn up and explain to him what I needed him to do.

_**XXXXX**_

"Look, Lee ... are you absolutely sure about this ?"

I met my imprint's gaze steadily and gave a helpless shrug. "No, I'm not, hon ... but it's not as if we've any other options to fall back on. Paul's in a bad way right now and if I'm honest, I'm really scared for him. If he carries on like this, Jake, we could easily lose him and I can't bear the thought of that happening. I ... We have to do something before it's too late ..."

Frowning, Jacob sighed softly. His dark eyes burned with a mixture of compassion and concern. He suddenly snaked his arms around my waist and drew me close to him and I felt his lips tenderly brush against the top of my head and his hand gently rubbed my back. His touch had me melting against him. It was reassuring. Comforting and soothing. It made me feel safe. Protected. Cherished. And above all, loved. I nestled further into his embrace. Revelling in his warmth and drawing strength from him.

"I know, love ... I know how worried you are about him. Fuck ! _I'm_ worried ... This _isn't _Paul. I want the old, snarky, mouthy hothead back as much as you do. I miss arguing with him ... The way he keeps me on my toes all the time. I miss hearing him taunt us ... seeing the inner fire blazing in his eyes ... To have him challenge me into doing something I normally wouldn't dare or have the confidence to do. I want my - _our _- Beta back. I _need_ him back, Leah. For all our sakes ..."

"And that's why I need you to talk to your dad, Jake. Why I want you to ask for Billy's permission to check out the tribal journals ... 'cause right now ? That's all I've got. I've racked my brains and I've come up with fuck all. Those journals could be our last chance ... they could be the key to why Paul's like this. And they could well hold the solution we need to help him."

"You don't need to persuade me, Leah. You already got me sold. It's just dad we need to convince ... though somehow, I don't think that'll be an issue. He won't have a problem with it, if it's something to do with the welfare of the Pack."

_**XXXXX**_

Half an hour later, we were both holed up in the Black's living room, surrounded by numerous journals and manuscripts. Billy had offered to stay and help us go through them, but thankfully, Chief Swan showed up and whisked him away on an unexpected fishing trip. At first, Billy was reluctant to go. He was torn between staying with us and help with our research or to go with his friend. In the end, it was Jacob who persuaded him to leave, convincing his dad that Charlie Swan was his best friend ... one who was lonely and unhappy since his daughter had abandoned him and moved in with the leeches. And that was all it took to sway Billy to go fishing. The idea that his friend needed him and wanted his company. Billy rolled out of the house in his wheelchair, clutching his fishing rod and tackle, yelling over his shoulder for Jacob to call him if we found something or needed help. And within minutes, we were alone, up to our eyeballs in journals and in full on research mode.

After hitting the journals for three hours straight, I heard Jake give a deep sigh, slam the one he'd just finished reading onto a growing pile in the middle of the living room table and push his chair back. He moved stiffly and rubbed his tired eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

"I hate to say it, Leah, but there's nothing here. It's a dead end. Listen, you look as shattered as I feel ... D'ya want something to eat ?"

Feeling slightly disheartened by Jake's words, I didn't bother to look up from the page I'd been reading. I shook my head absently and muttered that "some coffee would be good ..." The next thing I heard was Jake heading purposefully for the kitchen, then rooting in the cupboards for some mugs and some snacks. To say that we hadn't found anything useful in the tribal journals and manuscripts was an understatement and a huge disappointment. It was also hellishly frustrating. We'd both gone through everything with a fine tooth comb and come up with nothing. And now, despite my strong gut feeling that we'd stumble across something, my hopes began to wane as I got closer to the end of the last chronicle.

Still, I carried on reading. I owed it to Paul not to quit and for some strange reason I was compelled to continue. Then suddenly, I came across something. I read it once ... twice ... three times. Slowly. Carefully. Not daring to believe my eyes.

"_Fucking hell !_" I breathed softly, my eyes widening as my mind absorbed what I'd just read. "It _can't_ be ... It's impossible ... yet ... _JAKE ! _Get your ass back in here _now ! _I think ... I think I may've found something ... I may have an idea what's wrong with Paul."

I heard the clatter of mugs being dumped haphazardly against the kitchen worktop, followed by the sound of my imprint moving swiftly back to the living room.

_**XXXXX**_

"N-No way ... There's no way in hell that's happened ..." Jake denied vehemently. He looked up and met my gaze anxiously. His dark chocolate eyes wide, full of confusion and incredulity. "It's unbelievable for a start. Never mind being physically impossible- "

"I know, Jake ... but ... but how else can we explain it ? I mean ... who's to say it _can't_ happen ? After all shifters and leeches aren't supposed to exist, yet here we are ... large as (un)life and twice as ugly !"

"But Lee ... It's Paul, for crying out loud. He's one of the most dominant wolves in the Pack. And he's also one of the most aggressive and vicious ones I've ever met- "

"And he's also one with the biggest, most caring heart, Jake," I stated quietly, "even if he tends to keep that strictly under wraps. He's not just the big, bad wolf everyone believes him to be. There's far more to our Paulie than meets the eye."

Jake bent down and reached over my shoulder and carefully prised the book out of my hands, before flipping to the first page to read its preface. "Well, if what Ephraim's brother, Saul, wrote is true, then ..."

I spun in my seat and reclaimed the journal and added softly, "Paul's going to go ballistic. _If _all this is right, how the hell's he going to deal with the fact that he's a submissive ?" I looked down and scanned the page I'd last read and gave a shocked gasp.

Jake reacted immediately. "What is it, Lee. Tell me ... What's wrong ?"

"Oh. My. God ! It gets worse, Jake- "

"_Leah ! _Quit stalling. Just freakin' tell me already." Jake demanded, his voice raspy with worry.

Pale-faced, I turned and spoke hesitantly, "Saul wrote that _"In extremely rare cases, if a submissive wolf imprints and mates with his imprintee ... and if the imprintee happens to be a dominant male - particularly an Alpha - then ..." _Oh, God, Jake ..." I drew my lower lip between my teeth and began to anxiously worry it. For some reason, I couldn't for the life of me shake off the image of that painful bite on Paul's neck. It bothered me. A lot. Yet I couldn't say for sure why it did. Unable to carry on speaking, I mutely handed the journal to Jake.

" _"Then the sub will fall pregnant." _"Jake's voice tailed away as he looked up and held my gaze. "Shit ! If this means what I _think_ it does ... Paul actually imprinted on- "

"_Sam_ ... and by the look of it, was rejected," I added softly, while tucking a long strand of hair behind my ear. "It'd explain why Paul's in such bad shape. That he could be pregnant ... What I want to know is how the hell and _when_ did that happen ? And why the fuck no one knew about it ?"


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

_**Paul's pov:**_

When I finally came round, I was unusually cold and disorientated. The searing pain had become a dull, niggling ache. Feeling uncomfortable, I shifted hesitantly and was suddenly confused by how restricted my body's movements were. Warily, I opened my eyes and slowly took in my surroundings. Somehow, I'd ended up in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room, lying on a large, comfortable bed, swaddled in thick, blankets with a native print comforter thrown on top for good measure. No wonder my body had felt oddly trapped. Yet despite of the weight and pressure of the bedlinen, I still couldn't stop shivering violently from the cold.

A soft moan escaped my lips and I briefly closed my eyes. Suddenly, I heard the padding of rapidly moving feet approaching the bed, followed by another slightly louder, firmer, more resolute tread. The mattress suddenly dipped beneath me and causing my body to roll in that direction. A slim, elegant hand reached out to gently ruffle my hair before coming to rest against my forehead.

"So, Wolfie, you decided to join the land of the living, huh ?" A husky voice murmured teasingly. It belonged to someone that I'd grown extremely fond of over the last two years. A person who'd become a very good friend. Someone I considered family. Our resident she-wolf. Leah.

"Y'know you gave us all quite a scare, Paulie ... Got Jake and the boys really worried there. In fact, I've never seen Jake get his boxers in a bunch like that befor- _OUCH !_"

Leah spun around to glare at her grinning, unrepentant boyfriend who'd gently tapped her upside the head as he stood behind her. The funny thing was even though Leah was slightly ticked with him for doing that, she was unable to stop her body from gravitating and leaning into his. Just as Jake was unable to resist moving closer to her. Or how his large, powerful hand came to rest on her slim shoulder, its thumb idly caressing the bare skin covering her clavicle.

Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes once more. I couldn't bear to watch. Everything between them was so in tune. It looked and felt right. Every single gesture, touch and look they shared came naturally to them. Instinctively. And the love, desire and need Jake and Leah felt towards each other was tangible and couldn't be ignored or denied. What they had - what they shared - was what a true imprint should be. It was what I wanted more than anything. What I yearned for and needed, yet knew without a shadow of a doubt that I'd never possess ... That I'd _never_ be so lucky. My imprint had made his feelings all too clear that he didn't want or need me in his life. Unaware of the imprint and how I felt about him, Sam had unwittingly shown me that he didn't, wouldn't and couldn't care for me the way Leah and Jake cared for each other. And that hurt more than anything. Knowing that my imprint thought me unworthy ... that I wasn't deemed fit to even be in his presence. Never mind loved.

My breath hitched and as my thoughts drifted towards my imprint, I felt that familiar tightness in my chest once more. As if my heart was being crushed mercilessly in a vice. And to my dismay and horror, I felt a tear seep from the outer corner of my eye and slowly trickle down my cheek. I quickly turned my head away and prayed that neither of them had seen it. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on my side. That's the problem with being close to fellow shifters. Of letting them in. They don't miss a trick. Leah instantly cottoned on that I was upset and honed in on the fact in the same way that a wolf closes in on a kill. And I hated that. Hated the way she could read me like a fucking book. Hated feeling so vulnerable and so weak. Hated the way the imprint made me feel. That it was turning me into a wuss ... An emotional wreck. _Me_. Paul Lahote. Mr "I don't give a fucking shit." The Pack's hardass. La Push's most unfeeling, uncaring bastard. This goddamn imprint's screwing with my mind. Screwing with my heart. And screwing up my life.

Long, slim, uncallused fingers gently gripped my chin. My eyes slowly, reluctantly, opened and I was forced to meet Leah's dark, sympathetic gaze. And the wealth of understanding I found there was almost my undoing.

"Oh, hon ... Whatever it is ... no matter how bad, you can tell us. We won't judge, I promise ..." Leah's voice was soft and full of compassion. "I mean it. The worst thing you can do, Paul, is bottle it up. Take it from one who knows, yeah ?"

I shook my head in denial. There was no way in hell I could tell her what had happened. Couldn't face her pity. Or Jake's. I didn't want it ... or need it. And I _definitely_ didn't want the pair of them in my head. Knowing how I felt. Seeing how shit my life had become. That I'd imprinted ... and worst of all, that my imprint had rejected me.

I jerked away from Leah and rolled over so that my back was facing her. " I ... I can't do this. I just can't- " I slowly curled my body until I lay in a foetal position, with my arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Paul- "

"_No ! _Leave me alone ... Please ? I ... I can't deal with this shit right now ... I'm tired ..."

"B-But- " Leah protested, while carding restless fingers through her glossy raven mane. "I want to help and I can't do that unless you talk to me."

"You can't," I stated bluntly. "No one can. Just give it up, 'k ?"

I could tell Leah was about to carry on protesting. That she was determined not to give in without a fight. And I really wasn't up to arguing with her. I was too tired for that. Luckily, I didn't have to.

"Leah ... Leave him be, babe ..." Jake's voice rumbled softly. "Paul's tired. He needs his rest. He'll talk ... when he feels up to it. C'mon, Lee ... He's suffered enough. The last thing he needs right now is you giving him the third degree, yeah ?"

Surprizingly, Jake's calm input did the trick and Leah reluctantly, backed off. For now.

"Ok ... fine. Get some rest, Paulie. We'll talk when you're feeling better. Jake and I'll be downstairs, 'k? Holler if you need anything."

The next thing I heard was Jake sigh frustratedly at her persistence, before leading his stubborn, yet well-meaning imprint out of the room and downstairs. I held my breath until I was sure they couldn't hear me, then released a sigh of relief before burrowing deeper into my nest of blankets. And as I did so, all I could do was pray for one decent night's sleep ... where my dreams, for once, were free of Sam.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Jacob's pov:**_

I threw myself down on the couch and tugged Leah's wrist sharply. The sudden movement made her lose her balance and she ended up on my lap. Leah glared at me.

"What the hell, Jacob ?" she growled softly. I could tell she was pissed at me for insisting that she quit badgering Paul and let him get some rest, yet for some reason she didn't struggle or pull away from me. If anything, she wriggled until she got comfortable ... which unfortunately for me, made me uncomfortably hard. Leah then held my gaze confidently and smirked. Yup, my feisty, tempestuous imprint knew exactly what she was doing to me and had the goddamn freakin' nerve to actually smirk about it !

"Hell ! Leah ..." I groaned huskily, snaking my arms around her slender waist and simply loving the feel of her toned, athletic body nestling against me. "Behave, you little minx ..."

"What ? I didn't do anything ..." Leah protested, her smirk growing even wider at my obvious discomfort. She casually looped her left arm around my neck, whilst absently raking the fingernails of her right hand across my pecs and nipples. I instantly hissed in appreciation of her touch.

"You're evil ... y'know that, right ?"

"Who ? Little old me ?" Leah's voice had evolved from a raspy growl to a throaty purr of satisfaction. It's tone sent a bolt of pure need and lust to my nethers.

"Yup ... little ... old ... _you_ ..." I drawled, leaning down and closing the gap between us then gently capturing her earlobe and nipping it. Leah gasped softly and writhed as she felt my hand sneak beneath her t-shirt and begin to caress her warm, bare skin. This was how I loved my Leah best. Soft, pliant and oh-so adorable ... the lovable side she only allowed a privileged few to see. "Lee ?"

"Uh-huh ?"

"You need to give Paul some space, babe ... Just give him a little breathing room, yeah ? I know you're worried about him ... that you love him ... We all care for him and hate seeing him like this, but he's got a helluva lot to deal with ... and a lot that he doesn't even know about yet- "

"But- "

" "But" nothing. Y'know our Beta as well as I do, he'll start mouthing off when he's good and ready ... and when he does, you - no, _we _- will both be there for him, 'k ?"

And, amazingly, I meant every single word that I said. Paul and I may have rubbed each other the wrong way ... pissed each other off in more ways than I can remember when we were younger. But that was all in the past as far as I was concerned. Over the past few months, we'd become surprizingly close. Tight, like brothers. He always had my back and I had his. And to our astonishment, we found we shared similar interests and since I'd been voted as interim Alpha, I discovered a different, more serious side to him. That he was a helluva lot smarter than folk gave him credit. And above all, he was intensely loyal to and protective of the Pack, never mind being brutally and pathologically honest at all times. And when you combine all those characteristics together, as a Beta, he couldn't be faulted ... What you saw with Paul Lahote, was what you got ... A man of hidden depths and inner strength and someone you'd _always_ want fighting in your corner when things got bad.

Thanks to those qualities, that's why I was as worried as Leah about him. I'd begun to notice a change in him over the past year or so. A change that gave me cause for concern. Paul had gotten quieter. Become more withdrawn and isolated. And no matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, he was deeply unhappy. Part of it was due to the problems he had at home with his folks - scratch that, not his folks, but his old man. A violent, abusive, drunken bastard if ever there was one. Rumours were rife around the Res how Frank Lahote loved the bottle more than his own flesh 'n' blood ... Of the vicious arguments that raged at Paul's home when his dad got home after a skinful of hooch ... How Raine, Paul's mom and an absolute sweetheart according to Leah's mom, would vanish after those rows, only to turn up a few days later covered in fading bruises or on rare occasions, in a plaster cast ... And then there were the stories of how often Paul missed school or turned up at the hospital's A&E department, often with Raine in tow, both of them bloody, battered and bruised - Paul even more so, as he'd always leap to her defence, preferring to have the crap kicked out of himself rather than have his slight, delicately built mom assaulted ... So, yeah, in comparison to the rest of the Pack, Paul's had a shitty homelife, so it's no wonder why he's turned out the way he has ... That he's an aggressive, vicious and instinctive brawler. One who tends to protect those less capable of defending themselves.

But the catalyst to the change in him had to be Sam's girlfriend. The late and_ not_-so-dearly-departed Emily Young. Now armed with the suspicion that Paul may have imprinted on Sam, I can't even begin to imagine the agonizing pain Paul must have suffered ... the constant anguish he experienced having to deal with seeing his imprint living happily with someone else on a daily basis ... how badly that had to have eaten away at our fiery Beta's heart. All I know is that if I'd been in the same situation - if I'd lost my Leah to someone else - then I'd be in even worse shape. The actual thought of being without Leah damn well kills me.

But in hindsight - looking back on things - the way Emily insinuated herself in Sam's life ... the way she invaded the Pack meetings and interfered in our business, I _should've_ been on my guard. But I wasn't. Unlike Leah, who quickly sussed Emily out and saw her for what she truly was. An outsider - someone who wasn't a Quileute - intent on causing trouble. And when she drove that wedge between Paul and Sam she outdid herself. Emily deliberately came between two Pack brothers. Constantly meddled in matters that weren't her concern and humiliated and undermined our Beta at every opportunity she got. And the worst thing about it ? She thrived on shit stirring ... She actually revelled in Paul's suffering and the way she made him feel like an outcast within his own Pack. And Sam, poor, ignorant sap, was too blind to see it and all too quick to find fault with the one person who genuinely cared for him.

And in the end, it all got too much for Paul ... He did something I never dreamt he'd do. He backed off. Gave up and simply walked away without a backward glance. Something I now know took a helluva lot of guts and must've damned near killed him at the time. To have acted so selflessly ... to have placed Sam's happiness and needs before his own, surely must've torn Paul apart. And for the first time since I'd known him, I actually felt sorry for Paul Lahote. I felt genuine pity for him. Pity for what he was currently going through and for what he was about to experience ... Something that was going to turn his world upside down and change it forever. And the poor bastard had no idea of what was to come ...

"Hey ! Jake ..." Leah's soft voice cut across my thoughts and I blankly met her concerned gaze.

"Huh ?"

"You ok, hon ? Y'kinda zoned out on me there. Wass up ?"

I shrugged helplessly. "Oh, y'know ... just thinking, 's all ..."

" 'Bout what ?"

I sighed and carded my fingers absently through my cropped hair, spiking it even further. " 'Bout us ... How lucky we both are ... Lucky that we found each other and ..." I stopped abruptly and glanced upward, my thoughts drifting again to our stricken Pack brother who lay, hopefully, asleep in the room above us. "This is some big, fucked up shit, Lee ... _Really_ fucked up shit. But_ if _Saul's journal's right about Paul being a sub and _if _he turns out to be carrying Sam's kid too, then ... it'll destroy him, Leah. He won't be able to deal with it ... any of it. Being a sub goes against everything he stands for ... everything he knows ..."

Leah nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know ... All we can do is be there for him and give him all the suppo- "

Whatever Leah was about to say was drowned by the loud sound of glass being smashed, followed by an equally loud thud and the frantic scrambling of paws. We both leapt off the couch and darted for the back door, just in time to see the familiar form of a distraught, sleek, dark silver wolf bolting at breakneck speed towards First Beach.

"Fuck !" I breathed as my shocked gaze immediately collided with Leah's equally horrified one.

"Shit !" Leah muttered, before sprinting down the porch's wooden steps and diving behind a bush to swiftly undress. "Guess that means we don't have to worry about breaking the news to him any more, huh ?"

I briefly looked up towards the house and noted the shattered window pane that overlooked the porch. It was the window to the room where Paul had been resting.

"I'd say that's the least of our problems, Lee ... We need to find him before he does something stupid. Before he hurts himself ... or worse ..." And with that godsawful thought in my head, I phased and quickly gave chase after the pair of them.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Paul's pov:**_

I swear, I honestly tried to sleep. My body screamed that I desperately needed it. That I had to rest. But everytime I closed my eyes, sleep eluded me. All I could see was Sam.

He haunted my dreams and governed my thoughts. Different images of Sam flashed across my mind. The first time I laid eyes on him after I'd phased ... the moment I imprinted on him and he became my world ... all those patrols we'd shared ... bonfires on the beach when we'd messed around and had fun ... the times we went cliff diving with the Pack ... Happy times ... times I could never recapture. And then those images changed. I saw Sam on the day I'd gone to tell him of my imprint. That fateful day when _she _stole him from me for good. Then came the memories of _her_ staking claim on _my_ imprint ... when she moved in to his cabin. Recollections of all those Pack meets where she stirred and deliberately turned Sam against me ... The bitter arguments we'd have where harsh, cruel words were spoken and almost immediately came the memory of that fateful day where we came to blows after she played us both off against each other and I finally realized where I stood with him ... That our friendship meant nothing ... That I was nothing to him. But worst of all ? The one memory which broke me completely. Left me totally shattered. Without hope or purpose. The memory of our last encounter. The one where Sam gave me a brief, tantalizing glimpse of heaven before banishing me to an eternal hell ...

So, yeah ... after half an hour or so of restless tossing and turning, I admitted defeat, knowing I hadn't a cat's chance in hell of catching any zzzz's. I lay on my back and stared blindly at the ceiling. By now, I figured if I tried to keep my mind blank, free from all thought and stress, I'd stand a chance of not feeling so drained ... that I'd be less exhausted. Little did I know I was about to be proven wrong.

Being a shifter and sharing the traits of a wolf has its advantages and disadvantages, depending on how you look at it. Between the shared Pack mental link and all heightened senses, you'd naturally think they were benefits ... Believe me, there are times when they're not. Like I said, I was flat on my back, minding my own business when I heard voices coming from the room directly below mine. At first, the flirtatious banter between Jake and Leah had me groaning and squirming with embarrassment. It really wasn't what I wanted to hear and I began to feel sympathy for poor Seth who'd had to endure such crap for far longer than the rest of us. After a while, their voices became softer. More serious. And then I heard it. My name was mentioned.

Now, a wolf's hearing is extremely acute and even though my Pack brother and sister were under the misguided impression that I was asleep, they spoke quietly. Yet I could still hear them. Perfectly clearly. As if they were standing outside the bedroom door. And naturally, as soon as I heard my name ... well, I was bound to listen and pay attention. I'd've been a fool not to. But once I heard what they said ... when they voiced their suspicions as to whether I'd imprinted or not, I froze. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes and inhaled raggedly. How could they've known ? I'd been so careful. Had deliberately guarded all my thoughts about Sam and kept them under lock and key ... No one was meant to know about my imprint ... I didn't want them to. Didn't want to have to face their pity ... for them to feel sorry for me.

But what really made my blood run cold were Jake's next words: _This is some big, fucked up shit, Lee ... _Really_ fucked up shit. But if Saul's journal's right about Paul being a sub and if he turns out to be carrying Sam's kid too, then ... it'll destroy him, Leah. He won't be able to deal with it ... any of it. Being a sub goes against everything he stands for ... everything he knows ..._

All at once I was struck by many conflicting emotions. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. Denial. Fear ... and anger. But most of all, anger. It was like a red mist came over me and I was powerless to fight it. There was no way in hell I was a sub. No one was my master and I definitely wasn't anyone's bitch. Least of all Sam freakin' Uley's. And I was no chick. I wasn't blessed with a large rack and the last time I went to take a piss, I was still in full possession of my balls and pecker. They definitely hadn't been switched for pussy. The more I thought of Jacob's words, I could feel my control waning. I struggled free of the blankets with a low, furious growl and my body began to shake uncontrollably.

The next thing I was aware of was the sound of breaking glass; of shaking numerous glistening shards free of my sleek pelt as I paused on top of the porch roof. Then with a infuriated snarl, I leapt to the ground, my claws scrambling for purchase on the slippery earth before bolting in the direction of First Beach.

It was all too much for me to handle. Jake had been right on that score. He knew me only too well. I couldn't - wouldn't - be able to handle all this shit. Not on my own at least ... and certainly not without the help of my imprint who'd cast me adrift like a kayak without its paddle. And no matter what Leah or Jake said, that they'd be there for me, I was alone. I would always be alone. Not only had this fucking imprint stolen my right to choose who I wanted to be with ... who I wanted to love. It robbed me of my free will, my sense of self-worth, who I am ... my dominance. But what killed me more than anything about this fucking imprint was my loss of freedom. I was now tied forever to someone who wanted nothing to do with me and to reinforce that bond further, it appeared that I literally was Sam's bitch ... That if I was carrying his child, then I'd become even more of a freak of nature than I already was.

I found myself at the cliffs. Phasing back, I stood at the edge and gazed blindly as the huge waves crashed against the rocks below. The sky was a dark grey and storm clouds were swiftly gathering. Before long it started to rain. At first, it was a light shower which gradually became heavier. Yet I took no notice. I didn't care that I was standing on a precipice or that I was naked. Wrapping my arms protectively around my torso, I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the horizon and ignored the howling wind and lashing rain. After what I'd recently overheard, all I was capable of feeling now was numbness. Nothing else.

Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed. And without thinking, I hesitantly began to take a step forward ...


	8. Chapter 7

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language._

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter VII**

_**Leah's pov:**_

I quickly caught Paul's scent and gave chase. There was no way in hell I could leave him on his own. Not now. Not after he'd heard everything. Ok, so nothing had been proven or set in stone ... It was all conjecture at this point ... Suspicions. But I knew Paul. I knew how he'd react. And how did I know this ? It's 'cause I'd act exactly the same way if I were in his shoes ... Like me, Paul tends to act impulsively. Always thinks with his heart. Not his head. And just like me, when he's hurt, stressed or angry, he reacts wildly. Rashly. And without rational thought.

The good thing about being in wolf form - although it has its drawbacks at times - is that you're able to see your Pack brothers thoughts all too clearly. You feel what they feel. You hurt when they hurt. Cry when they cry. Laugh when they laugh. Basically, every freakin' emotion is shared and felt just as strongly ... although you may often wish you didn't. So, yeah ... I knew only too well what was going on inside Paul's attractive head. A myriad of tangled up emotions were raging within him and driving him absolutely crazy. And those emotions were like a minefield, ranging from acute shock, disbelief and anger to sheer confusion, panic and fear. The moment I felt the first jolt of those feelings I was genuinely scared ... for Paul. And what he'd do to himself ...

My fears were justified when I realized where Paul was headed. First Beach ... and the cliffs.

By the time I tracked Paul down, he'd shifted back and to my horror, was standing at the very edge of the precipice ... as naked as the day he was born. He had his arms wrapped tightly around his midriff as if he were desperately trying to hold himself together and not fall apart. Paul had his back facing me and appeared to be staring blindly towards the horizon. Lost in his own little world. A slave to his own thoughts. And oblivious to the heavy downpour of rain. Not wanting to startle him, I padded cautiously towards him. I was still some distance away from Paul, when he did just what I feared he would. He began to take a step forward ...

My heart was literally in my mouth. I froze in panic. Something which I never did. Now, I'm fast, there's no denying it. I've the reputation of being the swiftest member of the Pack ... I may be cocky - hell, I know I'm fucking cocky - about that fact, but even I could see there was no way I'd be able to close the vast distance between us and reach him in time. Feeling helpless and so very scared, I gave an anguished and frustrated howl knowing I'd failed my Pack brother. I was about to lose Paul and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Suddenly, a flash of russet darted past me at breakneck speed. The next thing I saw was my imprint take a massive leap towards Paul, who was struggling to get his balance. Paul's arms began to flail wildly and as he began to topple over, Jake clamped his huge jaws around his wrist and immediately tugged him back in the opposite direction. Back to safety. I could see Jake's muscles flex and he braced himself as he quickly hauled Paul's butt away from the cliff's edge. All the while I could hear the pair of them breathing deeply and the sound of Jake's claws frantically scrabbling against the surface of the gravelled path as he tried to secure purchase for both of them. Once it sank in that they were both out of harm's way, I shifted back and hastily donned a pair of denim cutoffs and a black, off-the-shoulder t-shirt before sprinting towards the pair of them. When I reached them, Paul had sunk to his knees and had his head bowed. Jake meanwhile, still hadn't shifted back and lay between Paul and the cliff edge. His head rested on his huge paws and he was panting heavily.

Seeing they were both unharmed, my relief gave way to anger. "Jeez, Paul ! What the hell were you thinking of back there ? Were you trying to scare me to fucking death, or what ? That's twice you've nearly given me a freakin' coronary today. Well ?"

When he didn't reply, I found him staring blankly at the ground. He looked so lost and vulnerable and his soulful dark eyes were confused. I knelt beside him and cautiously wrapped my arms around him and drew him close.

"Sorry, Paulie ... I didn't mean to yell ... It's just when I saw you there - when you began to fall - it really wigged me out, Paul. I honestly thought we were going to lose you ... and I couldn't bear that. You're family ... I - _we_ - need you and love you- "

Paul withdrew slightly and I felt his whole body stiffen. He raised his head and finally met my gaze. His brow was furrowed and he rubbed his nape anxiously then spoke. His voice was so soft that I could barely hear him.

"L-Lee ? Wh-What happened ? Wh-Why am I here ?"

"You don't remember ?" I asked warily, unsure of how he'd react.

"No. I remember being at your house ... trying to fall asleep and failing ... Then hearing voices. Your voices. You were talking. About me. Abou- " Paul froze and I saw the blood drain away from his face. He suddenly appeared so young. So frightened. And so alone. "You _know_ ..."

I watched him silently and worried my lower lip. Unsure whether to confirm or deny what he thought I knew. Paul leapt to his feet, his midnight-hued eyes sparkled with unshed tears and an unexpected fire. His lithe frame trembled with anger as he kept clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Go on then. _Tell me_. Tell me what you know ... Tell me I'm a goddamn, fucking freak ... That I'm a monster no one wants or needs ... never mind loves ! Just tell me what I've always known, _damn it _..." he yelled, his broad chest rose and fell agitatedly. "Tell me I'm worthless ... That no one gives a shit about me. Be honest, Leah. Just ... _Just fucking tell me !_"

For once in my life, I didn't know how to respond. How to fucking react. Me. Leah Clearwater. Queen of Sass. Mistress of Sarcasm. And bitch extraordinaire. The girl who always has a snarky remark on the tip of her tongue was now rendered into silence. And I felt helpless. Utterly helpless as I watched the Pack's original, big, bad wolf unravel and fall apart at the seams before my very eyes. And it was painful to witness. Seeing the one who used to be full of confidence that sometimes bordered on arrogance, come undone so spectacularly.

"I-I dunno what to say- "

"How about the fucking truth, huh ?" he snarled, meeting my gaze head on. "Come on. It's just words ... Nothing I don't already know. Hell ! What's that saying ? Oh, yeah ... sticks 'n' stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me ... Can't feel any fucking worse than I already do, can I ? So, spill- "

"Paul- " I began hesitantly, noting the tension in his body and the sudden iciness which turned the colour of his eyes from warm molasses to cold obsidian. I suddenly became aware of Jacob growling softly as he placed his huge body between us. Shielding me. Yet somehow, I wasn't scared of Paul. Wary ? Yes. Scared ? No. Somehow, deep down in my gut, I knew Paul would never harm me. Sure, he'd cuss me out ... verbally tear me a new one ... but he wouldn't lay a finger on me. Especially with my imprint in such close proximity.

"Cat got your tongue, Leah ? Just say it ... Get it over 'n' done with, for fuck's sake and put me out of my fucking misery ..." And just as quickly as his temper had flared up, it suddenly died down. "Please, Leah ..."

He suddenly seemed to cave in. It kinda reminded me of a wildly flickering flame on a candle. Burning brightly and fiercely before suddenly waning and blowing itself out. Paul looked exhausted. Drained of his strength and spirit, thanks to that unexpected loss of control.

"_Please_ ..."

That hushed plea combined with a rare softeness in his anguished eyes convinced me to try and get him to confide in me. But for that to happen ... for Paul to be willing to open up to me, it meant that he'd only talk to me. One on one. And that meant asking Jake to give us space. I turned and exchanged a meaningful look with him. Thankfully, Jake cottoned on and shrugging his powerful shoulders nonchalantly, he padded softly up the path away from the cliffs.

Sighing, I spun around to face Paul. "Ok ... I'll tell you what you want to know ... _after_ you tell me why you have a wild hair up your ass. What's bugging you, P ?"

Paul shook his head violently in denial. "I-I can't ... I'm not ready for that ..." he paused, then sighed heavily when he met my determined gaze. "Fine ... Phase and I'll show you ..."

And as always, temptation got the better of me. I phased.

_**XXXXX**_

Afterwards, we both shifted back and silently watched each other.

Paul's gaze was wary. And unusually hesitant. Nothing like his usual bold glare. It was as if he feared my response. That I'd reject and condemn him for what had happened. But I couldn't do that to him. I hadn't the heart nor the stomach for it as I knew the lure of an imprint better than anyone. You can't help who your inner wolf desires and wants for a soul mate, any more than you can stop yourself from breathing. And Paul's had its heart firmly set upon our grieving Alpha and wouldn't be swayed from its decision. And now our fiery Beta was securely and eternally snared in a trap of its own wolf's making, leaving him helpless and entirely without hope.

When it comes to his feelings, Paul's a true wolf and guards them fiercely. Yet I knew how privileged I was when he lowered his defences and shared everything with me. I saw every single thought and recollection he'd had since he'd first phased and I experienced all of his emotions. Especially the ones he felt towards Sam. And it was impossible to deny how intense or genuine those feelings were. I thought mine for Jake couldn't be surpassed, but Paul's for his imprint eclipsed even mine. You could safely say that Paul adored Sam and astonishingly, continues to do so despite the piss poor way Sam treated him. But what really upset, saddened and angered me was the way our proud Beta had bowed to the imprint's will. That he sacrificed his own needs and happiness to ensure Sam's were fulfilled ... and he suffered the anguish of seeing his imprint live his life and love someone else for the last two years in absolute silence. Paul had kept it all to himself, leaving the rest of us in complete ignorance of his pain ... And the worst thing of all ? What truly pissed me off more than anything ? That Paul gave himself to Sam ... had submitted to the imprint and became what Sam needed him to be. He'd become Sam's personal punchbag and whipping boy and let himself be ruthlessly taken, before being cruelly rejected and Alpha commanded to stay away from his own imprint.

Incensed by how badly Sam had treated Paul, I was unable to contain a furious snarl and vowed that as soon as I'd gotten our Beta back to my home to rest, I was going to confront the dumbass, son of a bitch and tear him a new one. Ok, so Sam had no idea about the imprint, but what he did to Paul was inexcusable. It was indefensible. And I intended to make Sam suffer for the agony he'd made my Pack brother endure for the past two years. And even more so, for the deep, overwhelming anguish Paul continued to experience.

I've always been accused of being a hardass, unfeeling bitch by a lot of people. Most of the time, it's the godgiven truth and I tend to shrug it off and not give a shit. But Paul's plight has really gotten to me. Has truly moved me. Having seen his memories and shared his feelings about the imprint, I'd've had to be an absolute heartless, soulless bitch not to feel for him. To not have any compassion for our fiery, arrogant, helpless hot-head. And I do feel for him. More than I ever imagined possible. How could I not ? Not when I know of his imprint; of how Paul longs to be with his mate and for Sam to claim him again; of Paul's craving for any possible contact, no matter how slight, with Sam, yet knowing that he's trapped ... that the Alpha command has him well 'n' truly over a barrell and that he can't fight it. But what truly breaks my heart is Paul's memory of Sam's rejection, especially after seeing the one I'd always perceived to be the most dominant member of the Pack, submit to such a violent ass-kicking before being brutally ravished. I saw the faint glimmer of hope appear fleetingly in Paul's dark eyes - hope that Sam would actually see, recognize and accept someone who truly loved and would always love him no matter what - only to have it swiftly snatched away from him.

I felt the bitter sting of tears begin to well in my eyes and I smiled at him sadly. I'd never seen Paul look so vulnerable ... so fragile. His eyes were haunted. Shadowed with torment and endless grief and it hurt to look at him. He held himself rigidly, arms wrapped tightly around his midriff once more and I couldn't shake off the feeling that he believed I'd also reject him. That I'd turn my back and walk away from him. That I'd leave him alone. I approached him cautiously. Hoping that he'd understand that I was going nowhere. That I'd always be there for him ... whether he wanted me to be or not. Before he got a chance to back away and make a break for it, I wrapped my arms around his waist and simply held him close. At first, I felt him tense. Then, he slowly relaxed in my embrace and simply allowed me to hug him. And I was only too happy to do it. It was only too clear that he needed it ... that he needed some comfort. Some kind of solace ... even if it was from me.

As soon as he leant against me, I suddenly became aware of how he'd changed physically. And I was shocked by it. He was smaller and slighter in build. Before, at six foot three he'd towered over my five foot ten inch body, but now we were both of a similar height and I was able to meet his gaze levelly without having to tilt my head back. Not only that, there were two other obvious changes. The first being the drop in his body heat. His skin felt cooller against mine. The second was the change in his scent. It was slightly sweeter than usual, yet extremely alluring. And they were all, according to Saul Black's journal, definite signs of a pregnant submissive.

"Come on, you ..." I spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. "I'm taking you home."

"Huh ?" Paul's molasses-hued eyes anxiously met mine. I pulled back and grinned at him affectionately.

"You heard, numb nuts, you're coming home. With me. You look all in."

"I can't, Lee," he protested quietly as a flicker of guilt crossed his face as he suddenly remembered the broken window pane. "Not after what I did- "

"Quit being such a dumbass, Paul. 'Course you can. You're coming with me. End of. So, suck it up and deal with it. 'Sides, wasn't your fault. Quit worrying about it ... I've got the window thing covered. So, what you waiting for ? Phase and get that furry butt of yours back to mine like yesterday, mister ..." I softened the words with a warm smile, one which he slowly returned once he realized I meant every single word I'd said.

And it was true, I meant it all. Once I got Paul home, I was going to make damn sure that he'd get some rest ... and while he did that, I'd unfinished business to sort out. Business that came in the shape of an oblivious, fuck-witted Alpha ... and gods help him when I caught up with him. After all, the bastard fucking owed Paul big time and he also owed me a new window ... I was going to make damned sure that Sam paid up both debts in full - one, particularly, with interest.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Sam's pov:**_

God ! I miss him ... I really miss Paul's company. His sly wit and sarcastic mouth, as well as that quick, razor sharp mind and ballsy "I take no shit" attitude. And I hate not being able to see Paul and hear that deep, husky growl of his. Things haven't been the same since we fell out and it seems so long ago since it happened that I'm not sure what caused the rift in the first place. And that's one thing I deeply regret. That we allowed things to get so bad. Don't get me wrong, Jake's been a good friend lately and he's like a little brother to me. But when all's said 'n' done, he's not Paul. He's _not_ my best friend and no one will ever be able to take that away from Paul. No one will ever be able to replace him and I swear on my life that's the god's honest truth.

Hell ! There are times when Paul Lahote genuinely pisses me off. No one can get under my skin quite like him ... he's got it nailed and he doesn't even try ! Winding me up is something he's got down to a fine art. No matter how hard I try to ignore him when he provokes me, I always fail. When it comes to making me lose control, my Beta has a real talent for it. And now that I've lost him, I feel as if a vital part of me's missing. And honestly ? Whoever said that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, was no liar. I see it now. All too clearly. And it saddens me. Deeply. I had a good friend in Paul. A loyal one, who trusted me implicitly. A brother who always had my back at all times. And how did I repay him ? I turned my back on him. Let him down. Accused him of being a liar ... when he'd always, unfailingly, spoken the truth. I'd betrayed our friendship. Betrayed him. No wonder Paul finally had enough ... that he gave up on and wanted nothing more to do with me ... that he hated me. And I can't blame him for feeling that way, considering how badly I'd treated him.

But the time's come for me to do the right thing. To pull my finger out of my ass, as Leah so quaintly puts it and try to fix things up with Paul. To begin to make amends ... though I'm fucked if I know where to begin. All I know is that I have to make things right between us. I _need_ to. 'Cause I can't go on like this any more. Not without Paul. I've already lost someone I cared for deeply and I'm damned if I fucking lose him as well.

The good thing is that I've finally sobered up. I've not touched any booze for a week. Not a single drop of grog's passed my lips. And I plan on it staying that way and if I do slip up, to try my damnedest to keep my drinking to a minimum. For the first time in weeks my head's clear. I can think rationally and coolly. And it's a damn good feeling, being able to think straight and actually remember what I've done, rather than blackout for hours on end only to come round feeling as sick as a dog after a heavy night in the company of Bud, Jack, Jim or Jose. I just wish I'd cottoned on to that weeks ago, instead of thinking I'd see my life more clearly, that it'd look better, through the bottom of a glass or a bottle. At least then, I wouldn't have ended up screwing up my best friend's life and alienating him.

So, yeah ... this self-imposed exile of mine ends as of now. I'm going to track down my Beta so I can begin to make things up to him. Knowing Paul - and he'll be well within his rights to feel this way - he'll be pissed at me. Really fucking sore. But I have to do it. Even if I die trying. 'Cause when it comes down to it, I've suddenly realized and accepted that my life sucks now that he isn't a part of it. It's a grimmer, colder, poorer place without him. It just feels so utterly wrong. And that's why I need to do this. Why I want to do this so badly. I owe it to him ... to me ... to both of us to at least try. That's all I can do and hope that he misses me as badly as I miss him ...

_**XXXXX**_

_**Leah's pov:**_

In the end, I didn't have to hunt down the piss poor excuse of a wolf we have for an Alpha. Nope, the moron actually made things surprizingly easy for me and that was something I hadn't anticipated.

After our chat on the cliffs and having decided it wouldn't be the smartest thing to have a nineteen year old shifter streak across the Res in all his glory, Paul and I quickly shifted and made our way to the forest which backed onto the house I shared with my imprint. Jake was already waiting for us at the treeline and it didn't take long for the three of us to get home. It was still raining heavily and the three of us were soaked to the bone. The first to shift back and get dressed was Jake and he immediately went inside to find a spare pair of cutoffs for Paul. He returned shortly, his soft dark eyes apologetic as he tossed Paul a clean pair of black denims.

"Sorry, bro ... they're the first thing I could lay my hands on. They, uh, may be a bit big ..." The tone of Jake's voice matched his eyes exactly ... it was rueful and apologetic.

Paul merely shrugged his fur covered shoulders and sloped off behind some bushes with the cutoffs in his jaws. He soon re-appeared, looking extremely self-conscious. Jake had been correct in his assessment. The cutoffs, which would've fitted Paul perfectly in the past, now hung loosely upon his slighter, more lithe frame, skimming lean hips and barely covering the taut curve of his ass. Paul hurriedly averted his gaze, rubbed his nape uneasily with his right hand whilst tightly clutching the waistband of the cutoffs with his left to stop it from sliding down further. A faint stain of scarlet tinted his high cheekbones.

"Thanks," he murmured softly, managing to look sheepish, yet vulnerable at the same time.

I saw Jake's eyes soften with compassion, then he slung an arm across Paul's shoulders before saying, "Come on, man ... Lets see if we can find you a belt. You look like you've lost a bit of weight ... not surprizing really, if all you've had is Leah's cooking. Hell ! It's shocking _we're both _still here consideri- _OUCH ! _"

I brushed past the pair of them, not bothering to hide the smirk on my face as I took in the startled expression on my imprint's face. "Just for that Jacob Ephraim Black, you're making us something to eat. And when I say "making" I don't mean picking up the phone and dialing for takeout !"

There was a faint snort of amusement. I turned around and saw a trace of a grin play across Paul's lips. He shook his head and struggled to keep a straight face as he watched the incredulous look that was stamped on Jacob's.

"Oh, that was harsh, bro ... Real harsh," he remarked teasingly.

I winked at him and deliberately misquoting Metallica, replied, "Harsh, but true, Paul. Harsh, but true ..."

_**XXXXX**_

Half an hour later, the three of us were lazing around in the living room, having already eaten a chicken stir-fry Jake had thrown together. Well, when I say eaten, Jake and I had, pardon the pun, wolfed it down, but I couldn't help sadly noting that Paul had picked absently at his meal and pushed it idly around the plate, before claiming he wasn't that hungry. Jake watched him in concern, but didn't push the issue with him. And to top it off, he gave me a warning glare to back off and leave our Beta alone. I reluctantly complied.

Anyhoo, there we were, sitting in front of the idiot box watching The Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers and we'd just reached the part where Aragorn had taken a swan-dive off the cliff with a warg, when I felt Paul tense beside me. And that's when I heard it. The stealthy, familiar tread that I knew so well. A low growl of anger escaped my lips and I leapt to my feet and was soon out of the door, ignoring Jake's worried protest of "No, Leah ... _Don't ! _"

Now, being the fastest wolf in the Pack definitely has its advantages as I quickly discovered. And the intense rage I felt, only increased my speed and agility. Before I could stop myself, I'd drawn my right arm back and using all of my strength lashed out with my fist. It connected sharply and with devastating accuracy with my target. Sam's head reeled back and he swayed unsteadily before trying to regain his balance. I struck him again, all the while trying to keep my inner wolf at bay ... to remain in control.

"How _could _you, you bastard ?" I snarled. "How could _you_ do that to him, huh ? What the hell did Paul ever do to you to be treated like shit ? Have you any idea how badly you've hurt him ? Well, have you ?" By now, my palm was itching like crazy, like it always did when I had the overwhelming need to hit something ... or someone. So, I gave in to temptation. I hit him again. Hard. Right in the gut. And felt some satisfaction as he grunted in pain and doubled over.

"Lee, please ... I want ... I need to- " Sam coughed and spat a mouthful of blood, before raising a trembling hand to wipe the back of it against his split lip.

"_No ! _I don't give a shit about what you want or need. For once, you're going to shut the fuck up, Sam Uley and listen. And you better listen good, asswipe. Paul did fuck all to you. Did nothing wrong. His only crime was to imprint on you, everything else is down to that evil, conniving, lying Makah cunt you buried a few weeks ago. _Not Paul_. In all the time he's been with you, he's _never_ lied or deceived you and has _always_ had your back. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy- "

"H-He imprinted ? On ... m-me ?" Shock swiftly drained the colour from his face. Sam's eyes had widened considerably and I could feel the combination of horror, guilt and self-loathing emanate from him. And going by his expression, it was only too clear that he knew nothing of the imprint. "I-I didn't know ... Paul ... he _never _said ... never told me. Fuck ! I swear, Lee on my life I didn't have a goddamn clue ... I'd never have treated him the way I did if I had ... Why didn't he say something, for fuck's sake ? He_ should've _told me ..."

I glared at him through narrowed eyes. Even though I believed Sam when he claimed he hadn't known about being Paul's imprint, I was still fucking furious with him.

"Samuel Uley, don't _you_ dare ... don't you fucking dare lay all this on Paul. Y'hear me ? He couldn't help imprinting on you any more than he can help breathing. He was going to tell you ... He wanted to, only he was worried about how you'd react ... that you'd reject him. By the time he'd got the freakin' nerve to tell you, it was too late. You were too busy sniffing 'round that skank Emily like she was a bitch on heat."

"He should've told me, Lee- "

"I don't need you to tell me that, Sam. I know. But would _you_ have listened to him ? And I mean _really_ listened to him, if he had ? Hell, no ! That piece of ass deliberately lied to you, Sam. Made a fucking point of coming between you and Paul. Painted him out as the villain of the piece, thanks to all her shit-stirring and made a damn moron out of you in the process ... She sure had you fooled, Sam. Conned you real good. Had you by the balls and led you like a fucking lapdog ..."

Sam's broad shoulders began to slump, "Don't, Leah ..."

"Don't _what_, Sam ?" I demanded, closing the gap between us and getting into his personal space. "Don't tell it like it is ... or rather _was_ ? I don't give a shit about Emily-freakin'-Young. If anything, I'm glad she's kicked the bucket. I'm only sorry for the poor bastard whose car she bounced off of and ruined ! So, don't expect me to feel any sympathy for that malicious slut, 'cause you'd be wasting your time." I paused briefly to study Sam and tried to quash the tiny flicker of compassion I felt towards him. "I saw what you did to Paul that night ... He showed me. He didn't want to. Didn't want anyone to know. But I made him. I practically forced him to tell me what's wrong with him, 'cause he's my brother and I love him. And I did it 'cause I was worried sick about him. I _still_ am ..."

Something I'd said seemed to have an effect on Sam. He frowned, making his brow crease with worry and his whisky-hued eyes softened with genuine concern.

"Why ? What's wrong with him ?"

"Oh, so now you care about him ? Why the hell couldn't you show this caring side before over the last two years ? You really hurt him, Sam ... and I don't just mean physically. You hurt him mentally and emotionally as well. He's not the same wolf he once was, thanks to you and that parasite you shacked up with- "

"Oh, come on ... that's not fair- "

"You're shitting me, right ? What's not fair is how the pair of you treated Paul. Made him feel like a leper in his own Pack. Like he didn't belong. All Paul wanted was to be there ... to be near you. To make sure you were happy and safe. And you couldn't even let him have that. _You denied him. _Made him feel unworthy. You knew how tough things are for him and Raine at home ... How much of a bastard Frank is. You moan that Paul's not been there for you ... but where the hell were you for him over the past few months, when things got bad with his old man ? Nowhere, that's where ... Being there for someone, especially someone you claim to care for, is a two-way street, Sam and you let him down. Badly."

Sam sighed heavily and carded restless fingers through his dark, cropped hair. "And that's why I've _got_ to see him, Lee. I owe him- "

"Damn straight you owe him," I muttered angrily. "You _more_ than owe him."

"I know," Sam hissed, his golden-brown eyes were tempestuous and full of fire. "That's why I've been looking for him. Is he in there ?" His eyes flickered towards the door of my house.

"What's it to you if he is ?" I hastily prevaricated. "What the hell gave you the idea I'd even let you see him ?"

"He is, isn't he ?" Sam made a move towards the house, only for me to shove him back angrily. He tried again and I shoved him back once more. This time with far more force and aggression.

"Move, Leah ... I need to see him. Don't make me hurt you- "

I barked an unamused laugh and slowly shook my head. "Oh, no ... over my dead body, buster. Do I look as if I care about what you need or want ? This is what about _Paul_ needs - what _he_ wants - right now. Not you. And I'd like to see you try ... I've seen the way you hurt people and it ain't pretty ..."

Sam's gaze was firmly fixed on my door and he gave a deep growl as he side-stepped past me. Trembling with sheer fury, I darted in front of him. Effectively blocking him from his goal.

"Leah ..."

"_No ! _You'll just hurt him like you did before. Did it even cross your mind that night, that Paul had needs and wants of his own ? Or were you too out of your fucking skull on hooch to give a damn ? 'Cause it seems to me you were too busy fucking him raw to care ! Did you even stop to think that he may not have wanted you to take him ? Way I see it, the damn imprint never gave him a fucking choice ... it forced him to be what you needed him to be ... To provide you with what you wanted, whether he liked it or not. Not once did you show him you cared ... or show him any tenderness. You just beat him up, took him brutally and left him battered, bloody and bruised. You used him and tossed him like trash once you got what you needed ..." I paused for breath and could feel my chest rise and fall agitatedly. I was on a roll now and nothing was going to stop me from guilt-tripping Sam to hell and back. "And to add insult to injury, Samuel Uley, what d'ya do ? You freakin' Alpha command him to stay away from you !"

By now, there was a distinct greyish tinge to Sam's russet skin tone. In fact, he appeared to become paler as my words began to sink in. And the more I revealed, the more shaken he became. "No. There's no way I'd do something like that. I'd never- "

I leant closer and stated bluntly, "_You_ were wasted, Sammy. That's _exactly_ what you did ! And the worst thing ? You don't remember any of it."

"All the more reason I get to see him then. To try to make things up to him."

"What ? So you can ease your conscience ? That's so not happening, Sam. You_ may _be his imprint, but there's no way I'm risking Paul's safety by letting you anywhere near him. You don't deserve him ... He deserves better. Way better ... He deserves someone who'll care for and love him. Someone who_ isn't _you ..." I was suddenly struck by the memory of Paul's last encounter with Sam. Of the clear image of Sam ruthlessly taking Paul. I was momentarily distracted by how good they looked together. Of how they just fit. How Paul gave his imprint everything out of love, only for Sam to return that gesture with nothing but raw anger, pain and lust. And then I saw it. The moment where Sam was caught in the throes of passion, where at the moment of release he lowered his head and savagely sank his teeth into that soft, vulnerable flesh at the base of Paul's throat.

And that's when I lost it completely. I immediately recalled that very same vicious bite mark ... how it refused to heal. And that's when I realized, to my horror, what it truly was.

"Oh, shit ! What the fuck have you done, Sam ? Bad enough the poor bastard had to imprint on you ... if it'd been just that, he'd have a chance to move on and find someone else if he got rejected ... But thanks to you, he can't do that, can he ?" I snarled, feeling the itch intensify to maddening levels in both of my palms. The need to phase and rip Sam's throat out became unbearable.

"What the fuck ? What d'ya mean by that ? What _I've_ done ?" Bewildered, Sam met my baleful gaze head on.

"You've only gone and ruined his life, you ignorant fuckwit ! _You bit him_. Fucking marked him ... He'll _never_ be free of you now ... Will never have a life of his own. Not after you bound him to you with that mate mark," I snapped. I was so consumed with fury, that I paid no heed to the distraught look on Sam's face ... a look which conveyed the guilt he clearly felt for condemning Paul to a painful, lonely existence. The life of a lone wolf.

All the while, I'd been circling Sam. Like a predator stalking its prey before closing in for the kill. They say that there's a fine line between love and hate. And don't get me wrong, I love Sam like an older sibling, but right now, thanks to his ignorance and unwitting cruelty, that line had become distinctly blurry ... It also didn't help that my inner wolf cried for vengeance for its wounded Pack brother. It demanded it. Craved it. Then, without warning, I spun around and found myself leaping for Sam's throat.

Only I never made contact with my target. I was abruptly brushed aside and as I fell to my knees, heard a familiar, husky voice shout my name.

"_Leah, no ! _"

Footsteps moved rapidly towards me, then I felt the familiar, gentle touch of Jake's hands as he helped me to my feet. As soon as I regained my balance, I turned to resume my attack on Sam. Only to find Paul standing before me. Right between me and my quarry. And going by his stance, the way he held himself and the steely determination in his dark eyes, he meant business.

Paul was going to defend his imprint. No matter what ...


	9. Chapter 8

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language._

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter VIII**

_Dog-tired and naked, he stumbled into the darkened room and fell on top of the large, king-sized bed with a heartfelt groan. It had been a rough night and patrol had been tediously long and frustrating. And all he wanted - all that he longed for - was to simply crash and fall into oblivion. To sleep dreamlessly and just forget everything. To forget how badly his body ached. Of how his mind continually raced and was never allowed to rest. That he was always preoccupied by his responsibilities to La Push, to the Pack and most importantly, those he loved ... and the one he'd lost. And of late, sleep had been an elusive bedmate. Eluding him at every opportunity. Leaving him both tired, restless and above all, extremely pissed._

_Not bothering to slide under the covers, he simply lay there and stared blindly at the ceiling. Wound up, weary with a throbbing ache in his head, heart and loins. And no relief within reach. With a heavy sigh, he flipped onto his side and faced the bedroom window. Moonlight streaked into the room through the open curtains, bathing the room with a pale glow. He closed his eyes and despite knowing it was a futile gesture, prayed that he'd get some respite for once. But as always, it wasn't to be and his prayers went unanswered._

_The mattress unexpectedly dipped beneath him. Then the feel of a warm body draping itself over him and the weight of an arm snaking around his waist caused him to freeze. His eyes suddenly flew open at the touch of firm, sensuous lips repeatedly brushing soft, gentle kisses back and forth from the ball of his right shoulder to his nape. His mind demanded that he turn around and face his unforseen bedmate, yet his tired flesh was weak and refused to listen. Denying him the identity of his companion. Forbidding him from seeing the one who made his body clench with need and lust. And as desire coursed through his veins like wildfire at the light, skilful touch of callused fingertips grazing an exploratory, downward path from his sternum, across his eightpack to his happy trail, he finally recognized and knew genuine want. He craved it. Longed for and yearned for it. A shudder of need he was unable to suppress, drew a low, sultry laugh from his partner's lips. And that soft, husky chuckle coupled with the sensation of long, slim fingers wrapping around his painfully hard erection made his breath hitch and his body tremble once more._

_Unable to prevent it, he sank back against the slender, lithe body that was coiled around him and as he did so, he caught a faint scent. One that tantalized and beguiled him. It was heady and irresistible, its spiciness reminding him of cool ocean spray, warm sandy beaches and sunshine. With a soft moan, he pressed back against the lean, toned, sleek sinew and warm skin and relaxed, his hand coming to rest upon the one which encircled his aching, pulsating shaft. A hand whose touch promised and delivered sinful things as it repeatedly teased and caressed his needy flesh. How the way it tugged and fondled his balls made his body writhe and demand far more; the feel of warm, callused skin stroking the lengthy girth of his swollen dick while a wicked thumb absently rubbed and smeared the liberally seeping pre-cum across its head, had him panting like a dog in heat._

_The lips which worshipped his shoulder and nape now nuzzled his throat as the hand on his prick continued to tease and torment him, drawing him repeatedly to the brink yet always denying him the release he craved. He began to thrust his hips desperately into the hand, seeking more friction, his body arching against the one that cloaked his and his head fell back to rest against his lover's shoulder._

_"More ... please ..." his voice was raspy with need as he pleaded for what he hungered for. "Please, harder ..."_

_Another throaty laugh behind him made him shiver in anticipation, then a voice spoke softly, seducing him further. "Shhhh ... easy ... Tell me what you need, my wolf ... Tell me what you want ..."_

_"Oh, dear God ... please. Quit screwing with me ... I-I need you, damn it ! Want you ... Want you so fucking badly. So badly that I hurt. I ache for you ..."_

_Those magical lips curved into a wicked smile. "See ? That wasn't so tough, was it ? All you had to do was ask ..." And just to confirm it, the hand increased the pressure around the ultra-sensitive muscle it held and began to tug and caress in earnest. "Cum for me, my wolf. Show me how much you fucking need me ... How badly you want me. Show me. Just let it go ..."_

_And that was the only incentive needed. Whether it was the persuasive, provocative words that affected him, the gentle breath caressing his cheek or that talented hand around his dick which currently made his senses reel and had the blood coursing through his veins, it didn't matter. What did matter was the feeling of pure ecstasy, the euphoria that he felt as he neared completion. His balls suddenly drew up and the next thing he knew, he was cumming harder than he'd ever done in his life. Virtually howling his pleasure._

_With a gutteral cry, his body shuddered violently as his release liberally coated his torso, as well as the hand that continued to idly stroke him. Finally, he sagged in exhaustion. Chest glistening with perspiration and heaving agitatedly as he cried the name of the one who was responsible for giving him such rapture. For making his entire body pulsate from sheer bliss._

_"Fu-uck ! What you do to me ... Oh, God ... PAUL !"_

And that's when an extremely shaken Sam Uley woke up - alone - trembling violently with his right hand thickly coated with his own release.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Sam's pov:**_

Fuck ! Not again ...

I sat bolt upright in my bed - yes, I'd started using my bedroom again after weeks of sleeping on the lumpy, old, living room couch - panic-stricken and breaking out in a cold sweat. And for good reason too. For two consecutive nights I'd abruptly woken up, more than once, yelling my Beta's name while my hand was still on my dick ... and it's left me confused as fuck and scared as hell. Reaching out towards the bedside table, I found a box of wet wipes and hurriedly cleaned my unsteady hands.

Shit ! This can't be right. I mean, I've always been into chicks. _Not guys_. Now here I am, lusting like a dog after a bitch in heat for my best friend. A guy who had _THE_ reputation for being the biggest tomcat La Push had ever known when it came to chasing girls. And when it came to pursuing women, Paul Lahote was a true Casanova. The love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy. If anything, the notches he'd claimed far exceeded his bedpost, if that makes any sense.

But yeah, like I said, this has scared the crap out of me. Ever since I saw him two days ago at Leah and Jacob's house, Paul's been constantly on my mind. He's all I can think of, especially after Lee let the cat out of the bag and revealed I was his imprint. I hadn't seen him for weeks and I missed him terribly and after searching his usual haunts, I'd ended up at Leah and Jake's. After that little bombshell, if I had any sense I should've stayed away. Backed off. Let things be. But I couldn't. Not even if my life depended on it. Something about Paul drew me to him. Whether it was the imprint's influence or not, I haven't a fucking clue ... All I know, is that he now haunts my dreams and rules all of my waking thoughts ... and I want him. Badly. And I mean to have him. Again and again and again ... _if _he'll let me.

**FLASHBACK**

_Damn ! _For a slip of a girl, Leah sure can pack one helluva mean punch. Ok, so she may not hit as hard as the rest of the Pack, but fuck she's fast and combine that with how unpredictable she can be, well, I can personally guarantee that whatever our she-wolf throws at you, it hurts like hell ! And trust me, our Lee's not one, unlike her brother, to hold anything back either. If she wants you to hurt or bleed, then you'll definitely end up in agonizing pain and bleeding freely. She'll make damn sure of it. And the worst thing you can ever do in her eyes - something that'll surely incur her wrath - is hurt one of her own. Someone she cares for deeply or loves.

And it looks like I've done just that. I've screwed up. Fucked up big time when I hurt Paul. 'Cause as far as Lee's concerned, our Beta and my best friend, means far more to her than being just a Pack brother. To her, he's family. She sees him as an older sibling, even though Paul's only a couple of weeks older than her. And she loves him deeply. As if he were a true blood relative. Like Seth. And that's how I've ended up as her personal punchbag or chew toy. She's after my blood and intends to make me suffer. Suffer far greater pain than I unwittingly and/or knowingly inflicted on Paul.

Leah really laid into me for what I'd done. Made me feel like a right heel and showed me how much of a bastard I'd been to my best friend over the past two years. And as soon as she mentioned that Paul had imprinted - that I was his imprint - I felt sick to the bottom of my stomach. The news left my head reeling. Guilt gnawed away at me like cancer as I recalled how hurtful and cruel I'd been; how I'd torn into him without justification, on numerous occasions; how at Emily's instigation I'd turned my back on him and refused to listen to anything he had to say and that I'd accused him of lying. Something I now deeply regret as I know deep down the last thing Paul Lahote happens to be is a liar. He's always been unfailingly and brutally honest. At all times. And with his unswerving loyalty, he was the best Beta I could've possibly wished for. But after that last particular fight which on my part at least, turned into a vicious brawl, I now knew I'd genuinely messed up. Paul became withdrawn. Reclusive. Evasive and, unusually for him, secretive. Thanks to Emily's meddling and her inexplicable dislike for Paul, I did something I'm deeply ashamed of ... I betrayed and regularly humiliated someone who'd done nothing to deserve it. And in doing so, I'd lost my wingman and my best friend ... something I feared could turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life.

Like I said, I'd really fucked up. Got swayed by a pretty face and a slender, lithe body. Had let her blind and turn me against what, or rather who, truly mattered. Someone I valued and cared for. All I could hope, pray for, was that Paul would be able to find it in his heart to forgive me. To allow an oblivious, ignorant prick to try to make amends. For him to trust me once again and not feel the need to avoid me like the fucking plague every time he saw me. 'Cause that's what's been happening. After that huge bust-up during the last Pack meet before Emily passed over, Paul could barely look me in the eye. He'd hardly talk to me, unless it involved Pack business and couldn't wait to get away from me once said business was done. In other words, as far as my best friend was concerned, I no longer existed. And that fucking hurt. It hurt like hell. There's a huge void in my life now that I find impossible to fill. A massive Beta-shaped hole. And I miss him. I, honest to God, miss him dreadfully and would give my eye teeth to have things back the way they were between us and more importantly, that I'd never hurt him in the first place.

So, here I am. Outside Jake and Leah's home, willing to prostrate myself before my Beta if need be, to regain his trust and forgiveness. Only he's not the one here before me, giving me hell. Nope. That honour goes to our fiery she-wolf, who's definitely not afraid to tell me exactly what she thinks of me or hand me my ass on a plate. And man, I'd never admit it out loud to anyone, but she's really done a number on me. When it comes to inflicting pain, Leah excels at it. Once my visible wounds have gone, all that'll remain will be the inner scars and those will be far, far harder to heal. And in all honesty ? For what I've done to Paul, I deserve everything I get. And then some ...

Fully aware that I was clearly in the wrong, I really didn't want to fight with Leah, especially when she spoke nothing but the truth. What I'd done, even though I'd been unaware of the imprint ... how I'd hurt Paul so badly, not only physically, but both mentally and emotionally ... well, it was indefensible. And I was all too aware of it. Yet somehow, in the blink of an eye, things got really heated between us and Lee was clearly out for blood. Mine.

"What ? So you can ease your conscience ? That's so not happening, Sam. You_ may _be his imprint, but there's no way I'm risking Paul's safety by letting you anywhere near him. You don't deserve him ... He deserves better. Way better ... He deserves someone who'll care for and love him. Someone who _isn't_ you ..." Leah snarled, determined to get her point across. And she did. It was true. Paul deserved all that and more. Someone who'd cherish and protect him. Keep him out of harm's way and free of pain. Someone who didn't make him suffer. Someone who definitely wasn't me. I was no good for him ... even though I wanted - needed - a chance to prove otherwise. To Leah. Jake. Myself. And especially Paul.

There was an ominous silence, then I saw Leah freeze. She appeared momentarily distracted, then her intelligent, mesmerizing, dark eyes gradually widened in horror and I could see anger begin to take hold of her once more.

"Oh, shit ! What the fuck have you done, Sam ? Bad enough the poor bastard had to imprint on you ... if it'd been just that, he'd have a chance to move on and find someone else if he got rejected ... But thanks to you, he can't do that, can he ?" She all but snarled at me. Her slender, beautifully-shaped hands kept clenching and unclenching as she tried to contain her fury. Fury I instinctively knew was aimed at me.

"What the fuck ?" Not one to hide or cower in fear, I met her baleful gaze head on. "What d'ya mean by that ? What _I've_ done ?"

"You've only gone and ruined his life, you ignorant fuckwit ! _You bit him. _Fucking marked him ... He'll _never_ be free of you now ... Will never have a life of his own. Not after you bound him to you with that mate mark."

Consumed by guilt and distressed by the knowledge of what I'd done, I felt my face crumble. Gutted by my actions, I remained silent. I was undeniably guilty of the crime Leah'd accused me of. I'd selfishly stolen Paul's life from him. Robbed him of his freedom in the most cruel way. I was so wrapped up in self-recrimination, that I failed to notice the change in Leah's demeanour. She'd changed from human to wolf in a blink of an eye. As her wolf came to the fore, Leah'd been circling me, in a predatory fashion. She must've taken my silence the wrong way as, without any warning, she sprang forward. Intent on claiming her kill.

Only it never happened. I'd braced myself for the impact. Expecting the feel of an enraged she-wolf colliding violently against me. But it wasn't to be. A lithe, russet-skinned figure suddenly darted across, barrelling into Leah causing her to fall to her knees and I heard a familiar, much missed, husky voice yell at her.

"_Leah, no ! _"

I never heard the racing footsteps or saw Jake carefully help Leah to her feet and regain her balance. Nor did I see her turn to resume her attack. And the reason why I failed to heed any of that ? All my attention was fixed elsewhere. Or more specifically, on the one person I'd sought. The wolf I'd been tracking for the past couple of hours.

Paul.

_**XXXXX**_

To my astonishment, Paul Lahote stood directly between me and Jake's furious imprint. Deliberately blocking any attempt Leah would try to get to me. Even after all the pain and suffering I'd inflicted on him, it came as a huge shock that Paul was still willing to risk Leah's wrath in order to defend me. _Me_. The worst, most pathetic excuse ever known as an imprint in Quileute history. But there he stood. Large as life. Holding himself in the exact stance he'd use when facing a vamp. Alert, business-like, deadly and I could almost feel the adrenaline radiating from his lean, tense frame.

"Please, Lee, don't do this," Paul spoke quietly, with a calmness that fought against the obvious tension he felt.

"Don't do _what, _Paul ?" Leah demanded angrily, her own stance as rigid as his. "Don't give him hell for what he did ? Don't tear him a new one for being a complete jerk ? Or hand him his ass for being the biggest fuckwit known in our tribe's history ? What he did to you's plain wrong, P. It's ... it's unforgivable. Not only did he hurt our Beta, he hurt_ my _brother ... _my_ best friend, for fuck's sake. I can't sit back and let him get away with what he did to you ... to a member of my family. I just can't ... He needs to pay for what he did- "

Leah struggled free of Jacob's hold and moved forward. Intent on carrying out her threat. Paul immediately side-stepped in front of her.

"_What ? _Tell me you're fucking shitting me, Paul. You're actually defending _him_ after all the crap he put you through ... ? For all the suffering you had to deal with for the past couple of years ? _Seriously ?_" Leah's strikingly beautiful, dark chocolate eyes widened incredulously.

"He's _my_ imprint, Lee ..." Paul replied softly. "I can't -_ I won't _- let you hurt him. Please, can't you just back off and forget about this ? Just leave Sam alone ?"

"You're crazy, Paul ... Have you totally lost it or something ? Have you forgotten all the crap you've been through, thanks to him ? How your life's gonna be from now on, huh ?"

"Leah, please ... I've never asked anyone for anything, but I'm begging you ... _don't do this._ Don't make me hate you for hurting my imprint. I don't wanna lose you, we're family but ... but if you do anything to Sam, we _will_ fall out and I'll do anything to keep him safe ..."

"Paul- "

"No, I'm sorry, Lee, but I mean it ... Hurt Sam and you hurt me." Paul's softly veiled threat held more than a hint of promise and the fact that he was prepared to see it through ... to give up all that he held dear in order to protect me made my senses reel.

Leah's shoulders slumped wearily as the fight suddenly left her. It appeared Paul knew her almost as well as she did. That she would back off rather than lose him from her life. She sighed heavily and eyed him with sorrowful, concerned eyes. "I really _really _hope you know what you're doing, Paul. For your sake, I truly do. But if the shit hits the fan, y'know where I am, 'k ?"

"I know," Paul replied huskily. "That's something I won't forget and ... and Lee ?"

"Yeah ?"

"Thanks. I really didn't want us to fall out ... don't think I could handle it if I lost you too. It'd break me..."

Ignoring my presence, Leah simply nodded and smiled at him warmly. "Me too. Later, bro ..." And with that final remark turned on her heel, loped back to Jake's side and quietly allowed him to lead her back into the house.

_**XXXXX**_

As soon as Leah and Jake disappeared indoors, Paul silently began to walk away and I guessed he was headed for home. To my dismay, not once did he turn around or acknowledge me. As I said before, it was as if I no longer existed. That I didn't matter.

"Paul !"

His shoulders seemed to tense momentarily, but he didn't stop or say anything. My Beta continued to stalk away and the sight of his retreating figure felt like a blow to my gut. It left me winded.

"_PAUL !_ Wait up, man ..." I yelled, trying to conceal the panic in my voice as I tried to figure a way to stop him from leaving. I loped after him. "Don't go- "

I reached out a hand and briefly grazed his shoulder only to feel him flinch, then back away from me like a skittish colt. My hand fell limply to my side as I watched him through anguished eyes. Seeing the Pack's hardened, badass scrapper recoil from such a slight touch then shy away confirmed how badly I'd hurt him and only fuelled the flames of guilt and remorse which burned within me further. I'd never thought I'd see the day that Paul Lahote would back away from anyone. Especially from me.

"_Don't ! _I mean it ... _don't touch me_. Don't you dare lay another fucking finger on me, Sam. Just leave me the fuck alone !" he snarled softly. His attempt at angry defiance didn't ring true and his slightly trembling body reinforced it and only served to make me feel even more of a bastard. But it didn't sway me off course. I had to try to explain to him why I'd been such a goddamn, fucking ass ... to get him to listen and to see that I was far from proud of my behaviour. That I deeply regretted causing him so much pain.

"Paul, I ... I'm ... I need to- " I approached him cautiously and abruptly froze when he suddenly spun around to finally face me. As he moved, I was immediately struck by his scent. For some reason, I'd always liked it. There was something appealing about his scent. Almost comforting. But now, I picked up a minute change in it. A change which made it irresistible ... mouthwateringly tantalizing. It was beguiling. Captivating ... deliciously so.

"_What ? _What part of "leave me the fuck alone" don't you get, Sam ? Huh ?" Paul's arms gesticulated wildly, conveying his anger and frustration. "I ... I can't deal with this. What the hell d'ya want from me, Sam ?"

"What I want is for you to stop running from me, Paul ... For you to quit hiding, so we can talk ... What I want is a chance to fix things between us. To make things right. I want - I _need_ - my best friend back. I-I miss you ..."

"And the fact that you fucking miss me is supposed to make things alright ? That I'm supposed to forgive 'n' forget all that's happened ? Well, that's just too fucking bad, Sam. It's too little too freakin' late ..." Paul snapped, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he became more agitated.

"Will you just shut up and listen for a goddamn seco- ?"

He shook his head violently and wrapped his arms protectively around his midriff. "Uh-huh, no way. Why the hell should I ? Why the fuck should _I_ care about what you want ? What _you_ need ? 'S not like you stopped and gave a damn about me and what I was going through over these last few years ... so why the hell should I ? If you're expecting me to roll over like a good little mutt and do just that, then you're going to be seriously disappointed ... What I want to know is what the hell d'ya want from me ? I mean, I did what I was supposed to do ... was an obedient imprint and gave you what you wanted. I was far too stupid or far too weak and let you have your way with me and what for ? Only to be treated like garbage the moment you got what you needed ... To be treated like dirt and ordered to fuck off and leave you alone. Permanently. So, yeah, you tell me what I'm "supposed" to do ..."

As Paul continued to furiously vent his spleen, I'm ashamed to 'fess up that I wasn't fully paying attention to what he was saying. I was far too busy studying him ... or rather devouring him voraciously with my eyes. There was something different about him, apart from that miniscule change in his scent. He was Paul, yet he wasn't, if that makes sense ... My brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to work out what was different about him. Then it struck me as I surreptitiously closed the gap between us what it was. Paul's gaze was no longer eye-level with mine. He had to tilt his head back to meet it. For some crazy reason he'd shrunk. He was smaller than he used to be ... and I don't mean only in height. His build had also changed dramatically. He was much slighter than Jake or me. Leaner. More athletic. He had the lithe body of a swimmer. Don't get me wrong, he was still toned and well-defined, only not as ripped or as bulky as I was. He looked different, but in a good way ... a _very_ good way. There's no denying it, but Paul's always been a handsome bastard and it wasn't surprizing girls always flocked around him, craving his undivided attention. But now ? Well, now he was beautiful. Heartbreakingly so. The more I studied him, the more intense the feeling of need I had for him got. I wanted him ... badly.

A deep hunger began to stir within me as I took in his proud, lean countenace. Those high, razor-sharp cheekbones, straight nose and that mouth ... that wicked mouth of his that usually ran away from him and got him into endless trouble and arguments. That luscious, full lower lip that he was currently worrying. I felt a sharp bolt of lust strike me and I felt an inexplicable, overwhelming need to lick, bite, suck, kiss and claim ownership of that plump, glistening, red lip. My eyes instantly widened at the thought. Where the hell did that thought come from ? I'd never been interested in guys, but here I was, craving my best friend and having lustful thoughts about his oh-so very fine body. I swallowed hard as I felt little Sam's all-too obvious interest in Paul press insistently against my cutoffs' zipper and I prayed to whatever deity that was willing to listen, to make sure Paul didn't look down and see that obvious interest. 'Cause if he did, I knew without a doubt that Paul would tear me a new one.

But I couldn't help it. I _really_ was interested in him. That tiny niggling spark of attraction had flared into full-blown desire as soon as I laid eyes on him. Yet I knew deep down, that it wasn't the pull of an imprint as according to tribal lore it was extremely rare, almost impossible, for an imprinted wolf to imprint on anyone. So, why was I so inexplicably drawn to him ? Then, the answer came to me. My gaze happened to fall upon a raw, vicious bite mark at the base of Paul's throat where it met his shoulder. It looked nasty and far from healed and that's when I finally recognized it for what it was. It was a mate mark ... it appeared that I'd claimed Paul as my own. And the mark was visible proof of why I was so irresistibly drawn to him.

"Sam. _Sam ! _Are you even listening to me ?" Paul's warm gaze had narrowed and became as hard as obsidian. He eyed me with icy contempt. "_SAM ! _Fuck this !" He gave a disgusted snort, then began to mutter to himself. "Why me, huh ? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve all this shit ? First off, I imprint on a fucking guy. Said guy blows me off in favour of the biggest bitch ever then when she snuffs it, he turns to me for attention. And me ? Dumb sap that I am, I give it to him. Bastard then makes me his fucking bitch, freakin' marks me then has the fucking nerve to reject me ! So, why the hell am I still here ? Screw this, I've had enough, I'm going home."

As soon as I heard the word "home," I shook my head in protest. "No, Paul, wait ... please ?"

"Why ? You've not given me a good reason to stay, so what's the damn point ? You can't do this to me, it ain't fair ... You _can't _go Alpha on me one minute and tell me to stay the fuck away, then expect me to come running whenever you want. I deserve better than that ... and you know it !"

"But, Paul- "

He rolled his eyes, then shaking his head glared at me. "No. Unless you grow a pair and prove to me that you're genuinely sorry for what you've done, then I don't wanna know. You may be my imprint and I may've stopped Lee from kicking seven shades of shit out of your sorry ass, but it doesn't mean I have to like it ... or that I'm happy about it. So, 'til you convince me otherwise, stay the fuck away from me, Sam." And before I could do anything to stop him, he vanished at a speed which would've left Usain Bolt stalling at the starting blocks.

Hurt and confused, all I could do was stand there helplessly as I struggled to get my head around the fact that a) Paul was still hurting desperately; b) he was going to be a very tough nut to crack and wouldn't make things easy for me in any way, shape or form and c) he was my mate ... the one I was destined to be with. All I had to do now was figure out a foolproof way to convince him that I wanted to make amends, that I wanted him back in my life and that I wanted to be with him ... in the same way that he wanted me.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

So, basically, looking back at all I know, I'm fucking screwed. Whipped. And I'm damned if I know how I'm going to win my feisty, wilful mate round ...


	10. Chapter 9

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language._

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter IX**

_**Paul's pov:**_

As soon as Jake and Leah disappeared indoors, I silently began to walk away. Towards home. All the while I struggled against my inner wolf not to turn around or acknowledge Sam. I had to fight to pretend my imprint didn't exist, that he didn't matter to me, when deep down I knew it was one great big lie ... that I was fucking deceiving myself. And as I did so, I tried to console myself that I was only doing what Sam wanted - obeying my Alpha. After all that was a command I was unlikely to ever forget as it was the one which left me completely devastated. The one where he ordered me to and I quote, "Just stay the fuck away from me, Paul ... for good."

"Paul !"

My body tensed the moment I heard his deep, husky voice call my name and my heart rate immediately began to race wildly. I couldn't help reacting, yet I daren't show it or let Sam see how badly he affected me. But I had no intention of stopping and for the sake of my own sanity, I continued to widen the gap between us. Stalking away from the man I loved more than life itself, as though my life depended on it, even though I could feel the intense, burning sensation increase in my chest with every step that I took. Steps which took me further away from him.

"_PAUL !_ Wait up, man ...Don't go- "

I closed my eyes and for a brief moment I thought I detected a slight trace of panic in Sam's voice, then slowly shaking my head I decided I'd imagined it. After all, the idea of Sam Uley, my Alpha - hell ! my imprint - panicking, especially over someone as insignificant as me was both inconceivable and laughable. It was a big fucking joke, only I wasn't laughing ... if anything, I was crying inside. Suddenly, his hand lightly grazed my bare shoulder. His touch, although I'd longed to feel it for ages, was totally unexpected. It was something I clearly hadn't been prepared for as I immediately shied and backed away from him. And that was a response I never thought my imprint would trigger in me.

"_Don't !_ I mean it ... _don't touch me_. Don't you dare lay another fucking finger on me, Sam. Just leave me the fuck alone !" I snarled. But even to my own ears, the quiet defiance sounded hollow and definitely lacked its usual fire. To make matters worse, my body began to tremble with unease ... and anticipation. Right now, I felt pathetically confused. Conflicted by my emotions. The human in me yelled at me to run. To just take off and not look back as I recalled what had happened between us the last time we'd been alone. How he'd used, or as Leah believed, abused me. How Sam had shattered my trust, crushed my spirit and worst of all, broken my heart into tiny, fragile shards that would probably never heal. Yet my inner wolf craved to be near its imprint. Wanted nothing more than to be at Sam's side and revel in his calming presence. It demanded - no, howled - that I stayed with my Alpha and didn't give a damn about whether I wanted to or not.

"Paul, I ... I'm ... I need to- "

My heart suddenly skipped a beat as I heard Sam's soft, purposeful tread cautiously approach me. I instantly spun around to confront him and my sudden movement caused him to freeze. He appeared distracted. "_What ?_ What part of "leave me the fuck alone" don't you get, Sam ? Huh ?" I yelled, gesticulating wildly with my arms, conveying both my displeasure and frustration. "I ... I can't deal with this. What the hell d'ya want from me, Sam ?"

"What I want is for you to stop running from me, Paul ... For you to quit hiding, so we can talk ... What I want is a chance to fix things between us. To make things right. I want - I _need_ - my best friend back. I-I miss you ..." His reply was softly spoken. Calm and sincere. Unfortunately for Sam, I was still raw and so wary from our last encounter that I was unwilling to believe him ... let alone trust him. And I was about to give him a rough idea of how I felt. To show him that his actions had thrown me off balance.

"And the fact that you fucking miss me is supposed to make things alright ? That I'm supposed to forgive 'n' forget all that's happened ? Well, that's just too fucking bad, Sam. It's too little too freakin' late ..." I snapped as my chest rose and fell agitatedly. Just 'cause I was no longer a dominant wolf, there was no way in hell I was about to roll over submissively and make things easy for my imprint. Nope, I was going to make the bastard stew for as long as possible and show him just how much of a bitch payback could be ...

"Will you just shut up and listen for a goddamn seco- ?"

Shaking my head emphatically, I wrapped my arms protectively around my midriff and glared at him. "Uh-huh, no way. Why the hell should I ? Why the fuck should _I_ care about what you want ? What _you_ need ? 'S not like you stopped and gave a damn about me and what I was going through over these last few years ... so why the hell should I ? If you're expecting me to roll over like a good little mutt and do just that, then you're going to be seriously disappointed ... What I want to know is what the hell d'ya want from me ? I mean, I did what I was supposed to do ... was an obedient imprint and gave you what you wanted. I was far too stupid or far too weak and let you have your way with me and what for ? Only to be treated like garbage the moment you got what you needed ... To be treated like dirt and ordered to fuck off and leave you alone. Permanently. So, yeah, you tell me what I'm "supposed" to do ..."

For once, instead of bottling everything inside when it came to my imprint, I finally let rip. All the pain, anguish and rage that I'd held in for so long, for two goddamn freakin' years, spewed out of my mouth and once I started venting, I quickly found that I couldn't stop. In a way, it was almost cathartic, even if it didn't completely free me of my anger. They were things that needed to be said and whether Sam liked it or not, he needed to hear them.

"Sam. _Sam !_ Are you even listening to me ? _SAM !_ Fuck this !"

Mid-rant, I became aware that Sam had zoned out on me. My eyes narrowed with icy contempt as I watched him. For some crazy reason known only to himself, my imprint had a dazed expression on his ruggedly handsome face and was studying me intently. It was a steady, unwavering look I'd never been subjected to before and it made me feel lightheaded and breathless. In some ways it kinda reminded me of the way Jacob and Leah eyed each other, or how Jared and Embry would look at their imprints, Kim and Rachel. Yet it also differed greatly. Sam's intelligent, golden-brown eyes burned with heated intensity. An intensity which was far stronger than the looks the other wolves bestowed upon their imprints. It also held a growing awareness ... an interest that flared within them that I'd never imagined or expected to see. Seeing those striking, whisky-hued orbs blaze with passion and suddenly discover that the desire and need they held was for me was ... staggering. It certainly wasn't the look a wolf gave his imprint for the first time ... Hell ! _I _should know. But as Sam's gaze slowly travelled up my body, it finally dawned on me that he wasn't just looking at me ... he was actually checking me out ! Openly checking me out. And he wasn't being shy about it either.

I remembered how I'd reacted when I first imprinted on Sam. Sure, there'd been a wealth of different emotions in the look I'd given him when I first laid eyes on him. It had been a combination of awe, want, need, love and above all, devotion. Sam's reaction although lacking in reverence, more than made up for it with hunger tinged with possessiveness. It reeked of pure Alpha. And it definitely made me feel uneasy. Unconsciously, I pulled my lower lip between my teeth and began to worry it and instantly felt Sam's hot gaze as it was drawn to my mouth. His eyes dilated. That's when I became aware that Sam had snuck up on me. He stood a foot or so away, close enough for me to have to look up at him and notice the dark rings which circled the stunningly beautiful irises of his eyes ... and close enough to smell the unmistakable scent of arousal.

The fact that he'd managed to get into my personal space and catch me unawares had me snorting in self-disgust. Hell ! No one ever got into my space ... not if they knew what was good for them. And here was Sam, standing within touching distance, his eyes fixed on the base of my neck where it met my shoulder. He was close enough that I could feel the heat emanating from his body and close enough to make my skin tingle with anticipation. To make me crave his touch. To want him. Need him ... And that made me inexplicably angry ... with myself. I wasn't going to roll over and submit to him, just 'cause he was finally beginning to see the light. To weakly give in to temptation, just 'cause Sam was my imprint. My Achilles' heel. No matter how desperately I wanted to. Fuck ! I may not have anything much left, but I _still_ had my pride for what it's worth and I planned on hanging on to it ... like grim death if I had to.

"Why me, huh ? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve all this shit ? First off, I imprint on a fucking guy. Said guy blows me off in favour of the biggest bitch ever then when she snuffs it, he turns to me for attention. And me ? Dumb sap that I am, I give it to him. Bastard then makes me his fucking bitch, freakin' marks me then has the fucking nerve to reject me ! So, why the hell am I still here ? Screw this, I've had enough, I'm going home."

As soon as I mentioned the word "home," I saw Sam shake his head in protest, then heard him plead huskily, "No, Paul, wait ... please ?"

"Why ? You've not given me a good reason to stay, so what's the damn point ? You can't do this to me, it ain't fair ... You _can't _go Alpha on me one minute and tell me to stay the fuck away, then expect me to come running whenever you want. I deserve better than that ... and you know it !"

"But, Paul- "

I rolled my eyes, then shook my head before treating Sam to another of my trademark vicious glares. "No. Unless you grow a pair and prove to me that you're genuinely sorry for what you've done, then I don't wanna know. You may be my imprint and I may've stopped Lee from kicking seven shades of shit out of your sorry ass, but it doesn't mean I have to like it ... or that I'm happy about it. So, 'til you convince me otherwise, stay the fuck away from me, Sam."

Then, before I did anything stupid like give in to my inner wolf - who was insistently whining that I submit to the need to pounce on my imprint, rip off his cutoffs and let him fuck me senseless again - I took off. All I could think of, could feel, was the overwhelming need to escape. To get away - ASAP ! So, I did what anyone with a sense of self-preservation would do ... I bolted. Fled as if I was being chased by a pack of rabid hellhounds, whilst struggling to forget the image of my imprint's stricken and confused face as he stood, helpless, in my wake.

_**XXXXX**_

Once I finally got home and thankfully, found no one there, I managed to crawl upstairs before weakly collapsing in a heap on top of my bed. Closing my eyes, I lay there gasping shallowly for breath. I knew fleeing from Sam would hurt. I'd been suffering from a constant, dull ache ever since Sam commanded me to stay away from him, yet when I saw him earlier, it had all but vanished. But nothing prepared me for the agony I now felt. It was excruciating. I ached all over. Only this time the pain seared and coursed like wildfire throughout my body. My limbs felt drained, I found it difficult to breathe and I was lightheaded. But worst of all, was the pain in my heart. It was as if it was being slowly crushed in a vice. I turned onto my side, drawing my legs up until I lay in a foetal position and slowly began to rub my chest with my fist in a vain attempt to alleviate some of the pain. Yet when no respite came, I realized the only way the pain would disappear would be if I swallowed my pride, kicked what little self-respect I had left into touch and went crawling back to my imprint. And that meant doing the unthinkable, something I couldn't accept ... submitting to Sam.

Thanks to the sadistic, old bastard - a.k.a. the old man - I shared house with, I'd come to regard submission as a sign of weakness. As something a real man would never contemplate. To yield or give in to someone, despite your better judgement, would only end up in grief. Although I was smart enough to accept if I caved in to Sam's wishes my suffering would end, I was damned if I'd do something so demeaning ... So, yeah, maybe I was cutting my nose off to spite my face by denying myself what I wanted the most ... the chance to be with my imprint. But I was also making a point. That I may be a damn sub, but I was no pushover or that I'd willingly kowtow to anyone. Fuck it ! I was _still_ Paul Lahote. La Push's very own resident hot-headed, badass hellraiser. I was still a rebel and I wasn't about to change for anyone. Alpha _and_ imprint be damned ! And if Sam doesn't like it, then he can go screw himself ...

Shivering, I reached across and dragged a thick blanket over to cover my sorry carcass. I suddenly felt inexplicably cold and extremely depressed. I was exhausted. For some crazy reason, all I wanted was to sleep. To just close my eyes, forget about my crappy existence and hopefully, _if _I was lucky, never wake up.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Meanwhile ...**_

_**Sam's pov:**_

I can't believe it. He's actually gone and left me. Fucked off before I even got a chance to explain. To apologize properly and beg for his forgiveness. And believe me, I was prepared to do anything to regain Paul's trust and more importantly, for him to understand that I wanted him more than anything or anyone in my life. I needed him and wanted him to know I'd accepted the imprint.

I'd seen first hand the devastating effect my initial rejection had had on Paul and the last thing I wanted to do was to inflict even more pain on him. And I knew I'd do everything - anything - in my power to keep him safe. Hell ! I _knew_ I hadn't imprinted on him, but Paul was my mate and I cared for him deeply. Far more than I cared about anyone else. What I felt for him wasn't love ... well, not yet anyway. But it was powerful ... intense. And it was growing stronger with each passing day. I knew despite the mark, that I'd _always_ want and need him ... and that the chances of me falling for him were extremely high. In fact, it was a dead cert. And the crazy thing about it all is that it didn't freak me out. I wasn't about to hightail it in a blind panic and reject him. If anything, the more I thought about the situation and about Paul, the happier I became and the idea of being with him didn't piss me off ... if I'm honest, it felt incredibly right.

As far as I was concerned, it didn't matter that I was Paul's imprint or he was my mate, all I cared about was that he knew that I was his ... in the same way that he was mine. And that his welfare, safety and happiness was paramount to me. That from now on, his needs would always come first. Now all I had to do, was convince him of that ... that I was genuinely sincere. And knowing how much of a rebellious, bloody-minded, little bastard my undeniably gorgeous mate can be, I knew all too well that I was facing an uphill battle ... one I'd clearly need help with, if I wanted to win Paul's heart and be with him for the long haul. And thankfully, I knew the exact person who could do just that ...

_**XXXXX**_

_**Fifteen minutes later ...**_

"So ... not that it's not good to see you, Boss Man, but ... _why_ are you here ?"

I looked up and returned Jared's slight, teasing grin with a faint, rueful smile and shrugged helplessly. He handed me a bottle of still water, before parking his butt on the back porch steps beside me and bumped his shoulder gently against mine.

"Can't a guy call on his friends anymore ?" I countered lightly, trying to buy some time as I sorted out my head.

Jared's shrewd mocha eyes burnt with open curiosity as he studied me. "Hey, Sam, it's _you_ ... You _never_ do anything without a good reason, let alone wing it ... What's bugging you, man ?"

I sighed heavily, realizing that I may have made a mistake in underestimating him. "Ok, you're right. There_ is _something- "

"_I knew it !_" Jared stated gleefully, before unscrewing the cap off his own bottled water and downing a few mouthfuls.

"Jay ..." I carded my fingers restlessly through my cropped hair, spiking it further then briefly worried my lower lip before deciding to bite the bullet. It was now or never. I _had_ to say something. Confide in him. Especially if I hoped to have a chance of winning my mate. I eyed Jared appraisingly and took a deep breath. There was no reason why I couldn't talk to him, after all I trusted Jay with my life. Despite Jared's rep as a bit of a joker, a prankster, I knew I could trust him implicitly with anything I told him, safe in the knowledge that it'd go no further. "We, uh ..._ I _have a problem ..."

He turned to face me and encouraged me to continue with a softly-spoken, "Go on, shoot ... I'm listening. Can't be that bad or you'd still be holed up at home, playing hermit."

My hand travelled across my scalp to rest against my nape. I rubbed it anxiously and sighed. "Depends how you look at it ..."

"Nah, man ... depends on how _you_ look at it. It may not be as bad as you think. So, quit screwing around so I can share some of my all-knowing wisdom with you." He grinned impishly in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere and to help me relax. Oddly enough, it worked.

"Ok ..." I paused and inhaled deeply once more. "It's Paul."

Jared seemed to perk up with interest. He clearly hadn't expected me to bring up our Beta ... or announce that he was a "problem." "Oh ... oh-kaay ..."

"He imprinted, Jay- "

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it ?"

I sighed. "Like you said earlier, it depends on how_ I _look at it ... Paul imprinted, Jay. _On me_."

The next thing I knew, Jared was cracking up beside me. Laughing so hard that I thought he'd pass out on me. I glared at him and he quickly sobered up.

"Fuck me ! Nice one, Sam. You almost had me believing you there- "

"I'm not kidding, Jared. I'm Paul's imprint. His soul mate." I stated earnestly, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my thighs.

Jared's dark eyes widened and he absently rubbed his jaw with his right hand. "Christ ! You're serious, aren't you ? Shit ! This is huge, Sam ... It's a massive deal. For both of you. When did you find out ? Nah, scratch that. _When_ did it happen ?"

"I know," I replied quietly. "It's freakin' huge. I only just heard about it. Leah found out by accident. Thought I needed to know. Paul wasn't about to tell me any time soon."

"So ? When_ did _it happen ?" Jared gently prompted, before taking a couple more sips of water.

"Uh, two years ago ... on the day he first phased."

"_Fuck ! _You mean to tell me Paul imprinted and has been hung up on you for the past two years and you knew _nothing_ about it ?"

I nodded silently, my eyes clouding at the thought of how much pain my mate had to have suffered during that time.

"Two goddamn freakin' years ? Wow ! And he _never_ said anything ? Gave you a clue ?"

"Nope. Zip. Nada ... Nothing."

"Whoa ... so all the while you were with ... Emily, Paul kept it all to himself ?"

"Yup, basically ..."

Jared grinned suddenly. "Well, it explains a helluva lot then- "

"What d'ya mean ?"

"Why Paul hated her guts so much. Why he couldn't stand to be anywhere near her and why he always looked as if he'd like to rip her head clean off."

"Jared, Paul'd never do that- "

"Sam ! Wake up, for Christ's sake and open your eyes. Put yourself in Paul's shoes. How would _you_ react towards someone who effectively stole the one you loved from you ? Ripped out your heart constantly ? Robbed you of your soul mate and took your reason for living away from you while continuously making your life a living hell and making you feel like an outsider within your own pack ? 'Cause that's what Emily did. Day after day after fucking day. I'm sorry, bro, I know she's dead 'n' all and that you loved the bones off of her, but when it came to Paul the girl was a first class bitch. Right from the off. And before you say anything, you _need_ to know this and understand where Paul's coming from. The poor sap couldn't help imprinting on you. He sure as hell never asked to imprint. Especially on a guy who happens to be both his best friend and Alpha- "

"Jay- "

"Nah, let me finish, Sam. Just listen for once. Seeing you with her every day and knowing he couldn't be the one by your side making you happy, must've damn near killed him. When Paul imprinted on you, you became his life. His reason for living. So, when you took up with her, it must've felt like rejection to him. He lost his purpose in life and his soul mate in one fell swoop. Poor bastard would've been gutted by it. No wonder he changed so much. Became so cold and distant with everyone. It was bound to affect him ... though considering it's Paul, he sure handled things pretty well ... Beats the crap outta me how he did it, 'cause if I'd been in his shoes and Kim didn't want anything to do with me then ... then I wouldn't be able to deal with it." He paused and his gaze drifted off to stare absently at the forest treeline. "When or if you imprint, Sam, it's a massive deal, yeah ? It's life changing and depending how strong you are, it can make or break you. You _have_ to be tough. And to be able to live without his imprint for two years, Paul has to be one of the strongest, toughest people around. What he went through would've killed a lesser wolf ..."

"I know," I murmured, "but that's not the half of it, Jay. There's more ..." And taking a deep breath I stood up and proceeded to tell him the rest of the story, keeping a wary eye on him all the while, particularly after I revealed that I'd fucked Paul then "gone all Alpha on his ass" afterwards.

Luckily, I'd chosen well in my confidante. Jared, even though he was close to both Paul and myself, didn't go ballistic and attack me like Leah did. He listened quietly and nodded encouragingly 'til I finished what I had to say. Minutes passed and seemed to drag on like hours before he finally spoke.

"Shit, Alpha ... you sure are in a bind. So, how d'ya want to handle it ?"

"I want him, Jay. Badly. I need Paul in my life. By my side. _He's my mate_. My sub. _My best friend_. It ... It just doesn't feel right not being with him. I feel like a huge part of me's missing when he's not around. I hate not having him in my life. It just feels so fucking cold and empty without him ... I-I miss him." And that was the godsgiven truth. Hand on heart, I genuinely missed him. And the shocking thing was I found that having bound the pair of us together after I'd marked him, I actually missed Paul far more than I missed Emily, the dead girl I'd professed to love. And seeing Paul earlier, had only reinforced the increasing need to be with my mate. It also emphasized the latent yearning I felt for him.

I couldn't help it, but the more I longed for him, the more my mind wandered. All I could think of was how fine Paul looked. I'm not saying he wasn't hot before ... he was. Otherwise, how would he be able to account for all those girls chasing after him. But now ? Now, he was drop dead gorgeous. If anything, the air of fragility about Paul only served to make me ache for him even more. There was something irresistible in the way only my temperamental wolf could make the rare combination of feistiness and vulnerability work. How, instead of pissing me off, I even found the way he pitched a hissy fit endearing. That even when Paul was sorely pissed off and throwing a major strop, I was hopelessly attracted to him. Unfortunately, the more I thought of him, the more unaware I became of my widening goofy grin. In fact, I was so wrapped up daydreaming about my mate, that I failed to see Jared roll his eyes in amusement.

"Hey ! Sam ..."

When I failed to respond, Jared quickly tapped me upside the head while struggling to keep a straight face. Startled, I distractedly met his twinkling gaze and stared at him blankly.

"Oh. My. God !" Jared stated bluntly. "You sure have it bad, Sam- "

"Uh ... Have what bad ?"

Jared snorted, then barely able to contain his mirth began to chuckle softly. "Your feelings for Paul. Guess I should be glad that we hadn't shifted, 'cause I doubt I could've stomached seeing what you were really thinking ..."

I felt my face heat up and immediately bowed my head. That was probably a mistake as the tell-tale sheepish expression on my face was enough to have Jared convulsing with laughter once more. I doubt he'd ever seen me act like a pathetic, lovesick puppy before. Shit ! Come to think of it, I'd never seen myself act this way ... even when I was with Emily. Although I'd been besotted with her, almost to the point of obsession, she'd never been able to create such intense feelings in me. Had never driven me to distraction as Paul effortlessly did. And he clearly had no idea of his power over me, that he'd been able to inflame me with a certain look or the way he spoke. Paul appeared to be absolutely clueless about how I truly felt about him. And that was something I planned to change ... pretty damn quick !

Once Jared managed to compose himself - again - he studied me carefully, then sighed. "Well, I never thought I'd say this Sam, but it's obvious you've genuine feelings for Paul. Never knew you could be such a sap though ..." He caught me glowering darkly at him then continued hastily, "not that it's a bad thing. It's good. Very good. Great even ..."

I rolled my eyes, yet couldn't help being a little amused by what he'd said. It was true. Undeniably so. My feelings for Paul were changing me. I was turning into a wuss ... and surprizingly, I wasn't bothered by it. I didn't care. All I cared about was my mate. Of taking care of and protecting him. And making sure he was happy. Nothing else mattered. Except for one slight hitch. In order to do all that, I had to win him over. And that was a pretty tough stumbling block to get around.

Sighing deeply, I met Jared's gaze head on and held it steadily. "Yeah, it is," I replied huskily, surprizing myself how quickly and easily I'd accepted both my change of heart and him. "A very good thing ... I just need to convince Paul. That I'm being straight with him. That I'm on the level ... and that's where- "

"Where I come in, huh ?" Jared gave an all-knowing smirk as I slowly nodded, while toying with the water bottle I held.

"You could say that ... I-I need your help and advice, Jay. I don't want to screw this up any more than I already have. And believe me, I _know_ I've fucked up ... big time. You imprinted and know what's going on in Paul's head ... what he's feeling. I just want a chance to make it up to him. For him to see I'm not a total ass or a waste of space. And that I'm so sorry for putting him through all this shit. Hurting him has to be one of my biggest regrets."

"Well, that's great, but I ain't the one that needs to hear you say that. You should talk to Paul, after all _he's_ the one that needs to hear those words ... to understand you really mean them."

"Fuck ! You think I don't fucking know that already ? 'Course I freakin' know that." Frustration was clearly making me snappy. "What I want to know is how the hell am I gonna do that if he doesn't want to know ? 'Cause he's already told me to stay the fuck away from him."

"Jeez, Sam ! Haven't you learnt anything yet ? You need to grow a freakin' pair, show some backbone and _make_ him listen. Make him understand. And when I say "make" I don't mean that you Alpha him in any way. 'Cause if I ever hear that you've done that to him and not in order to keep him safe, I will go all wolf on your ass ... y'hear me ? I mean it. You're both my brothers and I love the pair of you to death, but if you do anything and I mean _anything_ to hurt him, then I will hurt you. Alpha or not, I _will _make you bleed, Sam. You get me ?"

My eyes connected with his mocha ones. The customary warmth and amusement they normally held were missing and replaced by a grim resolution and a rare intensity. Jared's face held a steely determination which conveyed he meant every word that he'd said. That he'd break me without hesitation and make me bleed if I hurt Paul. And because he genuinely cared about my mate's welfare, I couldn't hold that against him.

"Sure, I get it. I can't promise I'll never hurt Paul, but I swear I'll do all I can not to," I replied seriously, not cowing under Jared's stern gaze. Something must've convinced him that I was being sincere. That I wasn't playing him, as he shrugged his shoulders and suddenly grinned causing the tension to disappear.

"That's all I needed to know, bro ... That you'll try not to hurt Paul and you'll always be on the level with him. Can't ask for anything more."

I found myself grinning back at him and rubbed my nape anxiously. "So, what do I do ?"

Jared's gaze drifted to the treeline and he remained silent as he gathered his thoughts. "For now ? You back off. Give Paul some space. Let him cool off. He's too wound up right now to give you a fair hearing. I say you go home, sleep on it and try to come up with a plan that won't piss him off." He chuckled and slowly shook his head. "Boy, you sure know how to make life hard on yourself, Sam. Marking Paul of all people and claiming him as your mate ... Life won't be dull with him, that's for sure. He's gonna make yours sheer hell, if you're not careful."

"I know, but I ain't complaining. Paul's worth any grief he decides to throw at me." I heard a sudden bark of laughter and saw Jared smirk once again.

"Whipped, Sam ... You may as well admit it, Paul's got you well 'n' truly whipped, even if he doesn't know it yet."

Rolling my eyes, I found myself unable to contain that daft grin from spreading across my face yet again as I leapt to my feet. "Shut the fuck up, Cameron !"

He laughed and stood up, wiping his palms against his paint-splattered cutoffs. "_Whipped !_"

Shrugging, I began to walk away, only to freeze as he called my name. "Sam !"

"Yeah ?"

"I'll help you. Just ... Just don't fuck it up, 'k ? I mean it. _Just don't _..."

Nodding, I smiled in gratitude then headed off home. Praying with every step that I took, that my wilful, moody Beta wouldn't take too long to see the light and cool off ... 'cause honestly ? I don't think I'll be able to stay away from him for long ...


	11. Chapter 10, pt I

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language. Also contains domestic abuse/violence._

**A/N: **Thanks to _**SoundShield11**_ for some invaluable advice and for helping me see things more clearly and put things into perspective with this chapter - I appreciate it :)

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter X**

**Sam's pov:**

As much as I hate to admit it, Jared was right. Paul needed space and time to cool down and if I had to back off for that to happen then ... then that's what I had to do. Even though it was the last thing I wanted.

Ever since I laid eyes on him yesterday, Paul's all I've been able to think about. The image of his lithe, toned, bronze-skinned frame, cropped, raven hair coupled with his lean, strikingly handsome face was permanently etched, or rather imprinted, on my mind. Especially his eyes. Whoever said the eyes were the windows to the soul was no liar, that's for sure. They were Paul's best assets by far. Most of the time, they were darkly mysterious yet to me, I'd always found them to be highly expressive, extremely intelligent ... and now ? Hauntingly beautiful. Even as they narrowed with suspicion, anger and pain as he'd watched me warily. And honestly ? That's the last way I want him to look at me. I want those mesmerizing, dark, velvety eyes to gaze at me with a burning need ... for him to want me intensely ... to see them soften longingly. And above all, to be full of love. For me to be "the be all and end all of his life" ... as he's become mine.

But I'm not that naive a fool. I know there isn't a ghost of a chance of that ever happening and I've far better odds of winning the lottery or seeing hell freeze over before my mate will ever yield to me and give in to the pull of the imprint. 'Cause I realize now that I've fucked up beyond belief. That what I did to him was unforgivable. And although I crave it desperately, I don't deserve his forgiveness ... or him. No matter how badly I wish for it. Somehow, these intense feelings I have for him have crept up on and caught me unawares ... or they were there all along and were simply dormant. I'm fucked if I know ... But they're here now and I wouldn't be without them for the world ...

I never imagined that a single person could have such an impact on my life. But it's true ... there's something about Paul that enthralls me. Whether it's the effect of the imprint or the mark I gave him, I haven't a freakin' clue nor do I particularly care. But whatever it is, it calls to me ... lures me in and entices me and for some inexplicable reason, my inner wolf loves it. _Loves him_. In simple terms, although Paul can't, or knowing him, won't see it, my feisty, attractive mate rocks my world. He's turned everything upside down and inside out and I just don't care. I don't give a damn, so long as he forgives me and takes me back ... and continues to care for me. And that's why I'm prepared to respect his wishes and give him time to sort his head and his heart out ... even if it ends up driving me crazy.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Paul's pov:**_

Sometimes ... hell, no, scratch that, it's been happening a lot lately, but I've been wondering where my head's at most days. Take the last time I saw Sam, when he showed up at Leah's looking for me. I got so pissed at him that I verbally chewed him out. Tore a right strip off him. Yet the moment I stalked off in a strop, I was conflicted. My wolf was distraught by my bloody-minded actions and was all too aware that I was too proud or far too dumb to see that I was cutting my nose to spite my face when I walked away. And to top it off, I couldn't help the guilt niggling away at me as I caught a glimpse of my imprint's confused and stricken face as I left him.

But I was damned if I was going to let Sam walk all over me again or allow him to have any madcap ideas about dictating what I could or couldn't do. I had enough of those problems thanks to that vindictive, old bastard I have to live with. And as far as the rebel in me was concerned - despite my wolf's vehement protests - Sam lost any say as to what I did the moment he told me "to stay the fuck away from him." That's not to say that I don't regret what I did to him ... _I do_. More than anything. And the more I think about it - about him - the more I hurt. I genuinely ache for Sam. I need him. Want him. Love him ... desperately. But I can't -_ I won't _- be a mug about this fucking imprint. I did that before and just look where it fucking got me ... Nothing but a world of pain and grief and searing, endless heartache. I try telling myself I'm only acting this way towards Sam in order to protect myself ... 'cause I wouldn't be able to deal with another rejection from him. Two's my limit, after all I have and don't laugh, my principles even if they do make a helluva cold bedmate. I'm so in love with Sam, that it makes my head spin. In fact, the way I feel about him really overwhelms me as I never dreamt that I - La Push's biggest player on record - could ever feel this way about anyone. But I do. And now I'm finally getting a taste of payback. How all those girls I'd strung along in the past must've felt when I'd led them on only to end up with nothing but disappointment, sorrow and regret. And in a way I deserve it, especially when I look back at how much of a thoughtless, selfish prick I used to be back then.

So, you could say when it comes to rejection, I'm working on the "three strikes and you're out" principle, just to protect myself from any further pain and that's unfortunate considering Sam only needs to jilt me one more time to screw things up for the pair of us ... All I can do is hope and pray that he won't fuck up and do just that ... especially now, when I'm vulnerable and not as strong as I used to be. Not when I and ... and our kid need his support the most.

"Our kid" ... Jeez ! I never imagined I'd even think let alone say those words. The idea of someone as reckless, fiery and unpredictable as me with a cub of his own is sheer madness. It's just fucking crazy and I'm still struggling to get my head around it. That I'm actually gonna have to face up to my responsibilities, be a parent and that I'll be the one carrying the little rugrat for the next couple of months. Only it's not a goddamn idea any more, is it ? It's stark freakin' reality. And honestly ? That's seriously freaking me out. It scares the living daylights out of me. I mean, I love a good practical joke as much as the next wolf but this ain't funny ... or fair. Well, it sure ain't fair on my cub. Poor little bastard ... For starters, since when is it fair to saddle him - yup, for some reason I've got it in my head that my firstborn's gonna be a boy - with someone like me for a parent ? A selfish, gobby troublemaker ? What hope does he have when he has La Push's biggest screw up as his dad ... or should that be "mom" ? Fuck ! _This_ is doing my head in ... Fate must've been smoking some serious dope to come up with this dodgy curveball, 's all ... And I'm shitting myself over how folk around here will react once they find out I've been knocked up ... how they'll treat me and even worse, how they'll act towards the little one. Something tells me that Leah and Jake already know that I'm up the duff, so that's one less thing to stress over. But the very thought of having to tell my parents - well, the old man'll go ape when he hears and will probably kick me out - isn't something I'm looking forward to. Same goes with the Pack and the Elders.

But the one person I dread facing is the one that has the most right to know ... and that's Sam. And god only knows how he'll take the news ... I'm genuinely bricking it at the thought of having to tell him and how he'll react. The real kicker is that La Push's most notorious player's actually living in fear of rejection and that the one person who gives his life any meaning will end up hating him even more than he already does ... That my Sam will believe I'm lying and that I'm trying to trap him, when nothing could be further from the truth. I'd happily accept any terms Sam'd care to offer, if it meant I got to be a part of his life, no matter how small.

God ! Why the hell do I have to be such a perverse, stubborn s.o.b. ? I _knew_ I'd made a goddamn mistake when I told Sam to stay the fuck away from me. I could tell by the hurt that clouded his golden-brown eyes that I'd screwed up. But I've been hurt so often in the past by other people, that it's become ingrained for me to inflict pain on others before they get the chance to do the same to me. It's my self-defence mechanism ... only this time it's backfired on me. Big time. Not only did I upset Sam, but I also hurt myself in the process and really it shouldn't come as much of a surprize considering how much of a fuck up I really am ... I can't help feeling suffocated by my emotions. By their intensity. It's like I'm in a permanent state of confusion and I dunno where I'm going half the time. And if that's not bad enough, I've also got the joys of raging hormones to look forward to as well which I'm dying to experience ..._ not ! _

I know shit happens, but why is it ever since I turned seventeen it _always_ happens to me ? That crap's dumped on me from a great height ? Why do I always end up copping it in the neck ? It's like life or fate just loves to screw with me ? To mess with my head ... and now my heart. I _never_ asked for all this. Didn't want any of this shit. Never sought it in any way, shape or form. I didn't ask to be one of La Push's guardians ... to be a fucking wolf. Didn't ask to be forcibly tied down to one person for the rest of my life and to have to depend on their good will for my happiness. Nor did I want to be anyone's bitch, never mind find I could actually _be_ a bitch and carry my own kids ... especially at such a young age. At nineteen. When I'm too irresponsible, too hot-headed to be able to deal with it ... when I'm clearly not ready. When I should be living my life to the max. Totally footloose and fancy free. Not be consumed with need, want and love for my best friend. 'Cause right now, the way I see it is ... Hell ! I'm _not _living. _This_ isn't living. It's an existence ... and barely one at that. I'm just going through the motions. Keeping my head above water. Struggling to survive. Just praying - hoping - for even the slightest sign of affection or at least friendship, from the one person who's able to give my life any meaning. And it's so hard, y'know ? Having to put on this front all the fucking time ... that I am dealing, that I'm coping with all this shit. I hate putting on a brave face over something that slowly, but surely, tearing me apart. 'Cause in the cold light of day, I'm _not_ coping. _I'm really not_. I may have convinced some of the others I'm dealing with everything, but that's 'cause I'm a pretty good actor and I've got them fooled ... but in all honesty, I'm lying to them and even worse, I'm lying to myself. I'm betraying myself the longer I keep denying everything and by holding my tongue about how I feel towards Sam.

Guess I really should bite the bullet and tell Sam what's really going on ... what's bugging me and why I'm acting all crazy. I just need to find the nerve to face him and 'fess up ... I _need_ to grow a pair and quit being a wuss ... I _have_ to tell Sam he's my world ... That I love him and ... and in a couple of months time, he's gonna be a dad. Easier said than done, huh ?

_**XXXXX**_

_**Jared's pov:**_

_OMG ! _Sam sure has it bad ...

It's kinda funny in a way, seeing our cool, level-headed, smart Alpha act so irrationally ... to feel so much passion and need for someone else. To see Sam consumed by emotions that are far stronger and more intense than anything he ever felt for Emily. To watch him behave like ... well, he'd tear me a new one if he heard me say never mind think it, a lovesick puppy. Don't get me wrong, I'm not taking the piss out of him in any way, it's just strange seeing our Sam like this. Weird, but good ... and for it to be Paul, our resident hot-head and ex-womanizer, to be the one that makes Sam feel this way is just staggering. In fact, it's pretty incredible to see two of the Pack's most virile and dominant wolves pining away for each other, even though one of them's far too headstrong to admit that he _really_ needs the other.

So, that's why I'm here. Standing outside the Lahote's residence, two days after Sam came to me for advice having found out about our Beta imprinting on him. Scoping the lay of the land at my lovelorn Alpha's request or more accurately, pleas, to make sure his mate's ok. Yup, it seems for once Sam's heeding my advice and has reluctantly backed off so Paul can calm down. Just as well really, 'cause like the rest of the Pack, I've seen just how vicious Paul can be when he's upset or hurting and it's _never_ a good thing to be at the receiving end of his fury. He can be an absolute unforgiving and unreasonable bastard when caught up in one of his rages and thankfully, Sam's smart enough to realize if he wants to make a go of things with Paul, he has to show that he respects his mate by giving him space. Time to cool off and let go of his anger. Otherwise if he doesn't, he hasn't a cat in hell's chance of winning Paul over.

I found P in the back yard, chopping wood. He stood with his back facing me. I'm not sure if "engrossed" was the right word for it, but he was so caught up in his work that he failed to hear me approach. I coughed softly so as not to startle him, warning him of my presence. Paul spun around and the large axe slipped from his numb fingers, falling onto the ground next to the large woodpile with a dull thud. I was immediately struck by how tired and fragile our rough, tough Beta looked. There was an air of vulnerability about him and that combined with the sudden change in his physique and the sorrow which tinged his dark, velvety eyes, shocked me.

"Hi," I spoke softly, still shaken by his appearance.

"H-Hey ..." Paul eyed me warily, his brow furrowed in confusion. "So ... you gonna tell me _why_ you're here ?"

Slowly shaking my head, I couldn't help but grin at his bluntness. His "just cut the crap and get down to business" attitude. This was the Paul the Pack all knew and loved. The one who didn't tolerate any bullshit and preferred dealing with the truth, no matter how brutal or painful that could be.

"We-ell ... you've been a bit of a lone wolf lately and I figured it'd be cool if we hung out and caught up on things, y'know ?"

Paul's eyes narrowed sceptically and I could almost hear how fast his thoughts were racing. If there was one thing I know that's a dead cert, it's never to underestimate Paul Lahote's intelligence. The guy's smart. Real smart. He has a brain and isn't afraid to use it and that makes him dangerous. He looked away and replied with an equally suspicious "Hmmm ..." which was followed by a fairly lengthy pause.

Paul suddenly sighed and wearily rubbed his nape, before finally meeting my steady gaze. "I guess you heard then ?"

There was no point denying it. Paul was no fool and wouldn't believe me in any case. "I heard- "

"That I imprinted ... on Sam. That I'm so screwed ..."

"I ... I just wish you'd come to me, bro. You didn't have to go through all this alone ... you could've talked to me. I'd've listened ... Fuck ! Y'know I've got your back, Paul. _Always. _No matter what ... You should've come to me seeing as I've a rough idea what you're going through- "

"No. That's where you're wrong, Jay. You've _no_ fucking idea _what_ I'm going through. Not a damn clue. Your imprint accepted you. Loves _and_ wants to be with you. _Mine doesn't_. He ... He rejected me ! And it hurts, Jay ... the pain's so bad that ..." Paul's husky voice cracked and to my dismay, I saw that his dark eyes glistened with unshed tears. He raised his right hand and absently began to rub his chest, directly above his heart, in an attempt to ease said pain. "Sam doesn't give a rat's ass about me. He certainly doesn't want me. _He never will_. After all, who in their right mind would _want_ someone as worthless as me, huh ? Someone who's not considered worthy of being loved ... Not even by their own fucking imprint. It hurts like fucking hell !"

I closed my eyes and sighed. It was all to clear that Paul believed every single word that he'd said. That Sam didn't care for or want him. You only had to look at Paul to see how devastated he was. As well as the physical pain he was experiencing. That Sam's "rejection" was slowly but surely killing him. And that's when I came to a decision. I _had_ to set him straight ... I was going to put in a good word on Sam's behalf. To plead his case for him. To make Paul understand that was far from the case, That Sam_ did _care. And wanted him. Desperately.

Even a blind man could hardly fail to see that Paul was pining for Sam. And the longer he denied himself and the imprint ... well, lets just say staying away from Sam was clearly taking its toll on him.

"That's not true, y'know ?" I replied quietly. "You've got Sam pegged wrong. He does care about you. More than you ever know ... Hell ! If you'd seen him earlier, you'd soon realize how deeply he cares and how badly he wants yo- "

Paul gave a disbelieving snort and shook his head in vehement denial. "_Bullshit ! _If _he_ cares so much ..._ if _he wants me as badly as you say, then how come he's not here now ? How come _he's_ not pleading his case instead of you, huh ?"

It was my turn to give an incredulous snort. "Huh ! Believe me, Sam would've been here faster than a vamp raiding a blood bank, but he thought he should respect your needs and give you the space you wanted."

"What_ I _need ... what I _want_, Jay, is for him to be here. With me !" Paul replied heatedly before his shoulders slumped dejectedly. "But he's not, is he ? He's not ..."

"But _he_ wanted to be here." I softly insisted, cautiously closing the gap between us. "Doesn't that count for anything ? That he'd be here in an instant ... if you'd just open up a little to him. If you'd actually let him in and told him how you really feel-"

"_What ? _And risk being rejected again ? I'm not strong enough for that, Jay ... Twice was bad enough- "

I sighed and carded restless fingers through my cropped hair. "But he's not gonna to do that to you, Paul. Not again. Not when he knows that you lo-like ..."

"That I love him ?" Paul snapped, impatiently dashing away the tears which had silently began to fall with the back of his hand. "Yeah, right ... whatever ..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake ! Just give him a chance, bro. If not for him, then do it for yourself. Don't you think you deserve to be happy ? Hell ! Sam's accepted the imprint and wants to give it a shot. He _really_ wants to be with you and make amends. So quit being a stubborn prick and let yourself be happy for once. Just take what you want and don't question it. Sam's more than willing - shit ! I'd even say he's pretty damn happy - to try and make a go of things with you ... All he's asking for is a chance ... a chance to make you happy. So, what have you got to lose ?"

"Everything ?" Paul muttered under his breath before a pensive looked crossed his face. Seeing the most confident, arrogant member of the Pack look so unsure of himself, so anxious, was a bit of an eye-opener. And when I think about it, it was almost as shocking as our big, brave Alpha transforming into a lovesick, young pup. If I hadn't seen both of them act so out of character, I wouldn't have believed it possible.

"Just do it, bro. Go for it. You'd be a damn fool not to. Besides," I smirked as I recalled how flustered and impatient a normally calm and unruffled Sam had been when I last saw him, "unless you come to a decision p.d.q., I doubt Sam'll be able to hold out for much longer before he comes looking for you, Paul ... He's struggling to stay away from you as it is."

Paul's eyes widened in genuine surprize and I fought to hide a smile as a glimmer of hope began to flicker within those intelligent orbs. It looked as if I'd given my feisty Beta plenty to chew over where Sam was concerned and I could only hope that I'd done enough to goad him into doing something positive where his imprint was concerned.

"So ... enough of the serious shit," I grinned, throwing an arm nonchalantly across his shoulders. "Forget about work. I fancy a swim. You game ?" And before he could protest, I snatched a couple of towels that had been drying on the washing line, grabbed his arm and hauled his ass towards First Beach.

_**XXXXX**_

**Two days later.**

_**Paul's pov:**_

It was just gone six o'clock when I finally got back home from Forks. I'd gone over there to fetch some groceries for mom and for once, luckily, managed to catch a ride back with Embry and Quil.

As soon as I walked in through the door, I sensed something was wrong. The old man was yelling at my mom. The tone of his voice was cold and malicious and his words were badly slurred. It was all too clear he'd been hitting the grog, was in an extremely foul mood and taking his temper out on my poor mom ... again. Then I heard her plead softly, begging him to let her go. To stop hitting her. All of this was followed by the sickening sound of fists hitting flesh. Repeatedly. Yet not once did I hear her scream ... only beg tearfully for him to stop and for him to ignore her.

Hearing her broken pleas made something within me snap. I burst into the kitchen in time to see my dad viciously backhand her, causing her to fall in a sobbing heap on the floor. He immediately went after her and she cowered, trembling violently as he backed her into a corner. The shopping bags I'd been carrying thudded onto the floor and I darted forward, blocking his path from his quarry. There was only one word that would accurately describe my mom's appearance ... she was a goddamn mess. Her green and black plaid shirt was torn and revealed numerous fading bruises, including the marks of his hands around her throat as he'd tried to choke her. Her left eye was already red, swollen and partially closed; her right cheek bled from where his ring had caught her as he'd backhanded her earlier and her lower lip also bled freely. And when I saw her tentatively cradle her left wrist and heard her whimper softly, I lost it. Completely. My mom was such a kind, gentle woman who didn't deserve any of this shit ... She deserved far better. She deserved to be loved.

"Out of my way, boy," my dad snarled, his gaze fixed with wild intent at my terrified mother. I heard her scramble backwards until her back connected with the wall. There was nowhere she could run to. She was cornered like a frightened animal.

"_No ! _If you want her, you'll have to come through me first." I growled back at him, my eyes narrowed with hate, as my fists clenched and unclenched time and time again.

"You disobeying me, you insolent little bastard ?"

"Too fucking right I am ! Besides, the only bastard I see here is you !" I goaded, trying to distract him from mom, who was currently trying to blend in to the wall and desperately attempting not to draw further attention to herself. "And if I had the choice of being a bastard rather than be your son, I'd gladly be one ... any day of the week. You're nothing but scum. A cowardly drunk, who thinks he's a big man 'cause he beats up his own wife. Well, I've got news for you, you worthless crock of shit ... You're no man. You're nowhere near being one ... You're a pathetic excuse of a human being. A monster. A waste of fucking space. If you wanna be a big man so much, why don't you try picking on someone your own size, huh ? Someone like me- "

I suddenly felt his fist connect with my jaw. Hard. Dazed, I shook my head only to feel his fists strike me repeatedly. Then a particularly hard blow struck me in the gut, causing me to double over in pain. Winded, I raised my head and sneered at him, before spitting blood onto the tiled floor.

"What ? That all you got, _old_ man ? Fuck ! Is _that_ the best you can do ? I've had girls hit me much harder than that, for fuck's sake ?" I taunted him as my body began to shake, hoping that it wouldn't take long for my wolf to come out to play. "Well, c'mon then ? What the hell are you waiting for ? You think you're the "big I am" around here ... well, _prove it _..."

"Why you little piece of shit !" my dad roared furiously, before lashing out at me once more. "You honestly think you can talk to _me_ like that and get away with it ? Well, d'ya ?"

By now, I was starting to feel distinctly uneasy ... and confused. My body still trembled violently and I wasn't in control of my anger ... it controlled me. But the worst thing of all ? For some unknown reason, I was unable to phase. My wolf was missing in action. And the fact that it was inexplicably A.W.O.L. had me distracted. And being the devious old swine that he was, my old man was - even in his drunken state - only too quick to take advantage of my lapse in concentration. He immediately struck me and I felt my legs buckle. I fell in an ungainly heap and lay sprawled on the floor, having hit my right temple on the way down. Grimacing with pain, I felt blood begin to slowly trickle from the wound on my temple and my vision began to blur and as I struggled to stay awake, one of the last things I remember hearing was my mom finally screaming at my dad. It was a sound that was full of anger and fear. A protective mother's anger towards him ... and a caring mother's fear for me ...

Then I heard him lumber unsteadily towards me, his thick, heavy work boots dragging across and heedlessly scuffing the floor's surface; the way he inhaled deeply and the stench of alcohol on his rancid breath. My stomach lurched uneasily and I managed to drag my arm to rest protectively over my lower abdomen.

"_No ! _For the love of God, Frank ... _STOP ! You'll kill him ! _"

And that's when I knew I was in serious trouble ... I was a dead wolf.


	12. Chapter 10, pt II

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language. _

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter X, pt II**

_**Sam's pov:**_

Screw this ! I've had it. I know I said I'd back off ... that I'd give Paul space ... but this ? This is driving me crazy. How much fucking time does he need to cool off anyway ? He's had four days, for Christ's sake. Knowing my luck and how wilful Paul can be, I'll probably end up with one foot in the grave before he decides to put me out of my misery. But I can't do this anymore. I _have_ to see him. Shit ! I need to see him ... I can see now how junkies get so antsy as they wait for their next fix. Paul's like my drug. I _need_ him ... I want _him_ ...and if I don't get to see him soon, I'll go mad. I swear Jay thinks I'm already halfway to the nut house as it is ... but if I have to stay away from Paul much longer, I'll end up committed.

Not knowing if he's ok, is seriously freaking me out. I can't help worrying about him. Especially now ... when I know I'm his imprint. That I claimed him as my mate and he's also my submissive. It's weird, but I've got this inexplicable, overwhelming need to take care of Paul. To protect him. To keep him safe. Always ... But what's stranger is this niggling feeling in my gut. An odd sensation I've felt for the past couple of minutes that something's off. That something doesn't feel right ...

That Paul needs me ... That he's in trouble. And with that horrible, sinking feeling consuming me, I reach a swift decision. Fuck this ! Paul's had plenty of time 'n' space ... I need to see him and I'm damn well going to, whether he wants to see me or not ...

_**XXXXX**_

I'm the first to 'fess up that it takes a helluva lot to scare me, so when that hinky gut feeling I had intensified rather than lessened as I drew closer to the Lahote's, I began to quietly freak out before tearing off in the direction of my mate's home. The scent of fear hung heavy in the air and as I neared the house I could smell blood. Fresh blood. Some of it belonged to Raine, yet most of it, to my horror, was my mate's. But what finally made me race up to the house and bust the door down was the tone of Paul's mom's voice as she yelled at her husband. It was full of fear and something completely unexpected ... rage. And all her pent-up fury was directed at Frank.

"_No ! _For the love of God, Frank ... _STOP ! You'll kill him ! _"

I barrelled into the kitchen and froze. Frank Lahote loomed over his son's prone, battered body which lay between him and his cornered wife. Both of them were so preoccupied by the other, they'd failed to notice my arrival. I glanced at Raine and what I saw made my skin crawl. If there was one thing I despised, it was men who beat up their wives and I firmly believed that anyone who struck a woman deserved all the crap that he got ... and then some. Despite the torn plaid shirt and her dishevelled, bloody, battered and bruised appearance, there was no denying that Raine Lahote was still a lovely looking woman. Doe-eyed, with sleek, raven hair that cascaded past slim shoulders, a slender frame which possessed generous curves and long, toned legs combined with an oval-shaped face with high cheekbones and full, kissable lips which tended to curve into a shy smile ... My Paul's mom was a definite beauty and it was all too clear to me from which side of the family he'd inherited his strikingly handsome features. When it came to how attractive my mate was, there was no denying that he was his mother's son, as he possessed none of his bastard of a father's "attributes."

Whereas Paul, in my eyes, was sheer physical perfection, Frank Lahote's features - which could've been considered handsome in the past - were coarse and puffy thanks to his excessive drinking. He was of average height, yet towered menacingly over his tiny wife. Dwarfing her with his bulk and making her seem even more fragile in comparison. What used to be a toned body had gone to seed and he carried a beer gut, as well as a massive chip on his shoulder that continuously fuelled his bad attitude and unreasonable behaviour.

Frank suddenly drew back his hand and there was a sharp crack of his palm connecting sharply with Raine's delicate face. "_Shut up ! _You dare tell me what to do again, woman and you'll regret it. Don't even think I care about that little fucker, 'cause I don't. Never did. Didn't want the ungrateful little bastard in the first place. You should've got rid of him right from the start. As far as I'm concerned he's a mistake. Always was ... always_ will _be. That little shit's no son of mine !"

Shocked by his words and uncaring attitude, I found it hard to understand how a man could be so callous, so cruel to his own flesh and blood. To his own son. Hell ! My old man was no saint, after all he'd fucked off for good just a couple of days after I was born, so maybe I'd been lucky that I hadn't had a home life like Paul ... and since I'd first phased, I'd always seen Jacob's dad, Billy, as a father figure. As someone I could turn to for help and guidance. Someone who'd become a good role model that I respected and who'd been willing to take me under his wing. In fact, Billy was the closest I had to a father and I loved him for it.

I saw tears well in Raine's soft, dark eyes and she struggled to hold them back. Then unexpectedly, she drew herself to her full height of barely five feet and glared defiantly at her bullying husband. "A _mistake ? _You _dare_ call him a fucking mistake ? He's _my_ son, Frank. _My boy _... My precious, beautiful boy. If there's one single mistake here right now, it's you. You were the worst mistake I ever did. I should've listened to my family and friends when they told me you were nothing but bad news ... Nothing but trouble. A waste of space. But I was stupid and naive ... I loved you, you bastard. _I loved you ! _But not anymore. Not after what you've just done. This is the last time, Frank. The last time you _EVER_ lay a finger on either Paul or me again. We've both put up with your shit for far too long and I want you gone from here. Now- _Aaagh !_"

Raine's face suddenly contorted with pain as Frank grabbed her slender, injured wrist and began to crush the bones against each other. "What did I tell you, you stupid bitch ? You don't get to tell me what to do ... or kick me out of my own home- "

I suddenly had enough. Before I realized what was happening, I had Frank Lahote by the throat, his back pressed against the wall and his feet dangling above the floor. Slowly, I began to squeeze and felt a sense of satisfaction as he began to splutter and claw against my hand in an attempt to free himself. Fascinated, I saw his face turn red and his eyes began to bulge in terror as I tightened my grip. The smell of fear radiated off him and I felt my lips curve into a cold, malicious smile. Good ! He deserved to know what fear felt like. To be on the receiving end of physical pain. To actually feel what his poor, defenceless wife had to put up with over the years. The suffering he'd put my mate through ... and that's what made my gaze drift to Paul. And what I saw made my blood run cold ...

Earlier, my view of Paul had been obscured by his father. He''d stood between us, effectively blocking him from my eyes. But now, as I pinned the older man against the wall and rendered him incapable of anything, I was able to turn my head to look at my Beta. My heart lurched. He lay sprawled upon the tiled floor. Unmoving and for a wolf, looked deathly pale. In fact, his pallor appeared even more marked by the streak of scarlet which seeped from a nasty gash on his right temple ... and that's what made me lose it and had my inner wolf baying for blood. Or, more specifically, Frank Lahote's ... The beast in me demanded release. That it be set free from its cage to wreak vengeance. It craved retribution ... not for itself, but for its mate. And nothing less would satisfy or appease it. Consumed by anger, I turned my attention back to the one person I held solely responsible for Paul's condition. The one I blamed for my mate's incapacity and his mother's injuries.

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at Frank then slammed him against the wall. There was a resounding thud as his skull connected with the hard surface. Yet I felt no guilt or remorse for my actions. Hell ! I was being easy on him considering what he'd done. If anything, I was far too lenient with him. Something which he'd never been with either Raine or Paul. With a furious snarl, I pinned him once more against the wall, this time instead of using my hand to hold him in place, I used my forearm ... pressing it tightly against his windpipe. Revelling in the sight of him turning purple as he began to choke; enjoying the sound of his limbs flailing against the wall as he struggled - and failed - to break free of my hold.

"D'ya wanna know what you are, little man ?" I snarled, fighting to keep my temper in check. "You're nothing but trash. Just a weak, pathetic, bully. A fucking coward who gets off on making someone more vulnerable suffer. That doesn't make you a man ... It makes you less than human." I leant forward and looked down at his struggling figure with icy contempt. "You don't deserve Raine, or Paul for that matter and for the life of me, I don't understand why they put up with your fucking lazy, ignorant, good-for-nothing ass for as long as they did. 'Cause _they_ sure as hell don't need crap like you in their lives !"

He glared at me. It was a look filled with fear, hatred and anger. One that I returned impassively, before smirking coldly at him, knowing that I was scaring the crap out of him and that he was unable to handle it.

"How does it feel, Frank ? To be on the receiving end for once ? To be powerless ? To have no control over someone else ? To be scared shitless ? Well, that's exactly how you've made your family feel for the last twenty years, you psychotic fuck. Doesn't feel so good when you're the victim, does it ?" Then without warning, I withdrew my arm and he began to slide down the wall. And that's when I gave into the craving to hurt him. Lashing out, I sucker punched him. Revelling in the feeling of my fist contacting his soft underbelly, just beneath his rib cage. The force of the blow instantly led to a "whoosh" of air being expelled from his mouth and lungs, before he fell in a pathetic heap at my feet. A little voice in my head kept nagging at me to finish him off ... to yield to the compulsion to hurt him as badly as he'd hurt both Paul and his mother. And I swear to God I would have, except for one thing. The feel of Raine's small hand lightly resting on my forearm.

I looked down and saw her slowly shake her head. Her dark brown eyes, so similar to her son's, were anxious as they met mine. ""No ... please don't, Sam. The bastard's not worth it. Leave him be- "

At first, I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. After all Frank Lahote had put them both through, for all these years, Raine _wanted_ me to back off ? To not make him bleed ? To not make him suffer ? When he deserved to feel all the pain she and Paul had to endure for so long ...

"_What ? _You're shitting me, right ?" I asked, my worried gaze falling upon my mate's prone body. "Seriously ?"

"Seriously, Sam," she replied softly. "You _need_ to drop this ... let it go. I'd hate to see you get into any trouble over me. Over us ... Please ? All I want - all I _need_ - is to see him out of my house. This is _my_ home. Mine and Paul's. It was never his in the first place. I just want him out of our lives ... for good !"

"But ... Fuck ! It's not right, Raine. Look what he's done to the pair of you, for crying out loud. Don't you want some kind of payback at least ?"

She slowly shook her head and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "No ... All I want is him gone. I don't want to see or hear about anything that concerns him ever again. Not after what he's done today ... Not after ... _Damnit ! _He crossed the line this time ... went too far. I'll never _ever _forgive him for hurting my son like this. For making my Paul bleed. I don't care what the hell he does to me ... but my boy's off limits. He doesn't deserve any of this shit. None of it ... and I blame myself. If I'd been a better mother, been a stronger person, this would never have happened. Should've kicked Frank out the first time he ever hit me ... but I didn't 'cause I'm weak and stupid. But no more. This ends as of now." Raine glared furiously at her husband who was still coughing, spluttering and rubbing at his throat. "What I want - what I'd like - is to see him dead, or failing that, gone ..."

Raine must've caught the calculating look in my eyes as I glared furiously at her husband as she hastily added, with a rare glint of dark humour in her eyes, "But I'll settle for him being gone, Sam. Away from La Push and Forks. I just want Paul to be happy. For us both to have a normal life ... and the only way we can do that, is if _he_ leaves ... permanently."

"That can be arranged ..." I replied quietly, the calculating gleam in my eyes turning predatory. "If that's what you both want."

"So long as my son's safe and well and doesn't have to worry about me all the time ... I'm happy." Reaching for a clean cloth, Raine dropped to her knees and cautiously raised her son's head to rest it on her lap, then carefully began to swab the blood away from his temple. I saw her bite her lip, then tears began to fall down her cheeks as she softly murmured, "My son ... my poor, beautiful, precious boy. I'm so sorry ... so very sorry. I should never have let things go this far, Paul. Should've looked after you ... put you first. You didn't deserve any of this. It was my job to take care of you, not ... " Raine raised a tear-stained face and met my gaze warily. "Did you know that he's been looking out for me since he was thirteen ? Every time Frank got home loaded and used me as a goddamn punchbag, Paul's defended me ... taken care of me. I've lost count how often he's seen me cry ... the times he's had to clean me up or take me to A & E ... and how often he's tried to persuade me to leave that bastard ... Never mind how many times he got beaten up trying to keep me safe. No child should have to do that ... to have to take on the responsibilites of an adult. Thanks to us, my Paul never got a chance to enjoy being a kid ... he lost his innocence far too young and I'll never forgive myself for that. _Never !_"

Despite hearing all the love and pride for her son in Raine's soft-spoken voice, I couldn't help noting the underlying guilt in it as well. Guilt and belief that she'd let Paul down for so many years. Yet deep down, I knew it hadn't been Raine's fault and she wasn't to blame for living in fear of her husband ... And I couldn't hold that against her, not when I'd finally seen Frank Lahote's handiwork first hand ... Even so, it wasn't enough to prevent my jealous inner wolf from snarling softly as I watched her do what I desperately craved to do myself - hold my mate in my arms, to protect and care for him ... and never let him go. What genuinely blew me away was how quickly my wolf had become so possessive of Paul and how eagerly it accepted the imprint; of how it couldn't stand anyone other than me touching Paul and barely tolerated his mother doing so ... even if she did have prior claim on him.

Suddenly, I was distracted by the sound of Frank struggling to his feet. His bloodshot eyes were narrowed with fear and hatred and were fixed warily on me.

"_You_ still here ?" I drawled, stalking forward to close the gap between us. I was rewarded by the sight of him stumbling as he hastily backed away from me. "You heard the lady ... she wants you out of her house- "

"It ain't hers- " he snapped only for me to cut him off.

"She wants you gone ... for good. So, you gonna leave, or are you gonna be a dumb fuck and make me throw you out ?" Despite me wanting to see him go, part of me wanted him to resist. For him to stay so that I had a legitimate excuse to kick the crap out of him for what he did to Paul. Holding his gaze, I stared him down. Daring him to resist. To put up a fight.

"You wouldn't ... you don't have the balls for it," he stated, full of bravado, yet I could tell he was quaking with fear.

"Nope ? You_ sure _you wanna find out ?" I snarled, intent on psyching him out. I moved closer and rolled my tense shoulders as I did so. "C'mon, little man ... just do it. Gimme a good excuse ... _Go on, try me_. Or are you too much of a coward when it comes to hitting men ?"

Suddenly, he lashed out wildly, missed me altogether and began to sway unsteadily. I grabbed him by the scruff, twisting the collar of his shirt and drawing him close as I bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Pathetic," I taunted. "Just pathetic ... Now, you're going to do exactly what your wife tells you. _Leave_. And don't come back. If I ever hear that you've set foot in La Push, on our land again ... come anywhere near or try to make contact with either Raine or Paul again, you'll regret it, you miserable piece of shit. Y'hear me ? I'll make you wish you'd never been born."

"You threatening me, Uley ?"

"Believe me, that ain't no threat ... it's a promise. And I always keep my promises, little man ..." I growled, keeping a firm grasp on his collar and shoving him roughly through the kitchen door in front of me.

"Sam ?" I turned at the sound of Raine's voice to look at her. "Where are you going ?"

"Just taking out the trash, 's all. Didn't think you'd want_ it _cluttering up the place ... I'll be back once I've got rid of it," I promised with an evil grin. She nodded absently before returning her attention to her son and seeing her do that made me want to offload a certain dirtbag from the Res and get back to my mate. ASAP ...

_**XXXXX**_

Once I'd escorted a rebellious, mouthy Frank off the Res, I tore back to the Lahote's and found a tearful Raine pleading for her dazed son to come round. She had his head in her lap and was gently stroking his face with a trembling, uninjured hand.

"P-Paul ... sweetheart, c'mon ... Open your eyes for me ... please, just ... just don't go to sleep, 'k ? Keep your eyes open, please ?"

"Raine ? What's wrong ?" I immediately fell to my knees beside her, my gaze flickering briefly over injuries before darting to the person whose welfare had become my only priority. Suddenly, I was struck by another overwhelming need to take care of him ... to protect him ... love him. And I couldn't help feeling jealous of the way Raine tended him. The way her small, delicate hands caressed his bronzed skin familiarly and with so much affection. I groaned inwardly at the thought of being jealous of my mate's own mother ... of how she freely got to touch, feel and hold him. Maybe I was being a dumb jerk, an irrational fool, but I just couldn't help it. Just like Paul couldn't help imprinting on me and unwittingly drawing out my protective streak.

"He needs to stay awake, Sam ... we can't let him fall asleep. He could have concussion ... I-I don't know what to do ... he just keeps drifting on and off-" Anxiety cloaked Raine's voice and her face etched with worry.

My eyes were instantly drawn to the wound on his temple. It looked deep and stood out lividly against the unnatural paleness of his skin. Seeing him so unusually still and frail made my heart lurch. He looked slight and helpless, so unlike our bold, brash, fiery Beta ... So unlike the Paul we knew, respected and liked. What was far worse, he was nothing like the wolf and man I needed, wanted ... and loved. And there was nothing I longed for more than to see the old spirited, passionate Paul. The one that constantly challenged and kept me on my toes. The one I was falling for.

The good thing about having a cool, logical mind is that it doesn't take long to find a solution to a problem and thankfully, I'd been blessed with one. After mulling it over, I came up with a plan which I could only hope would work.

"I need you to call Sue or Leah Clearwater ... Ask them to come over. They both know how to deal with head injuries ... Besides, I'd feel happier if Sue got to check you over ... your old man really did a number on you, Raine. Some of those bruises look nasty," I replied quietly, avoiding looking at her discoloured throat and concentrating on the way she carefully cradled her injured wrist.

"I'm ok, Sam ... I'm more worried about my son- "

"Raine, right now Paul would want you to take care of yourself ... to put yourself firs- "

"I can't do that ... He's my son. He needs me."

"Your son needs to know you're ok. He's gonna want that more than anything, 'cause he loves you. You know he does." Seeing she was about to protest further, I knelt down at Paul's side and carefully began to lift him up so that I could carry him through to the living room couch. "Trust me, Raine, I've got this. Let me take care of Paul, while you get help. Please ... ?"

Raine quickly realized that there was no way in hell I was prepared to back down on either score; then tying her thick raven hair back, she gave a brief nod of acknowledgement before hurrying down the hallway to call the Clearwater's. Once she disappeared from sight, my attention instantly returned to my mate.

In a heartbeat, Paul was all I could see, hear, feel and more importantly, think of. I couldn't help revelling in the feel of him in my arms. Despite the drastic change in his body - that he was so much smaller, slighter and lighter than he used to be - he was perfect in my eyes ... and it felt so right to hold him, as if he'd been created for just that purpose. I carried my precious cargo with the utmost care. His dark head nestled perfectly in the crook of my shoulder and somehow, incredibly, his lithe body pressed itself even closer to mine as it unknowingly sought warmth, comfort and protection. My arms instinctively tightened around him as I sat on the couch. I drew him onto my lap, settling him comfortably against me and before I realized what I'd done, I leant down and brushed my lips against the top of his head.

His scent captivated me. For some unknown reason, its subtle freshness had always calmed and soothed me. But now ? Now there was an underlying hint of sweetness that combined perfectly with the spiciness which reminded me of ocean spray, cool breezes and warm, sandy beaches. I found it intoxicating. It inflamed my senses, turned me on and had my body clenching with need and want. Just being so close to Paul, feeling his taut thighs against mine, the perfect curve of his butt and his muscular body resting on top of me, had a painfully hard and aroused "little Sam" yearning to feel skin against skin. His against mine. To have him writhing on top of me in desperate need ... craving my touch ... mine alone ... as those sinewy thighs snaked around my hips and he wrapped his arms around my torso and clinged wantonly to me.

Swallowing hard, I licked my dry lips and tried to steady my breathing as I gave myself a sharp mental slap upside the head. This was bad ... Here I was, finally with my mate as I'd hoped for, only for him to be injured and probably concussed and all I could think of was taking advantage of him when he was so vulnerable. I was a bad, selfish man and an equally bad, lustful wolf. And God, did I want him ... Badly. Yet I daren't ... not when Paul clearly wasn't himself and in no fit state to return the favour.

I gently ran the back of my fingers from his temple and across his cheek and inhaled deeply, savouring his clean, seductive scent. Paul moaned softly and astonishingly, nestled even closer to me.

"C'mon, bro ... Stay with me here, y'hear me ? Don't close your eyes, I'm begging you ... You got banged up pretty bad and chances are you've got concussion, so you need to stay awake, 'k ? I know you're pretty pissed with me right now, but you gotta do this, Paul ... If not for you or me, do it for your mom 'cause she's worried sick about you ..."

I was so caught up in Paul and in trying to get him to stay awake, that I failed to notice his mother standing in the doorway. It was only when she pointedly cleared her throat to gain my attention that I finally became aware of her presence.

"So ... You're the one," Raine stated bluntly, her speculative gaze firmly fixed on me as she studied the way I carefully held her son and the way I was absently stroking his hair.

"Uh ... I-I'm the w-what ?" I replied uneasily, noting how intently she was watching me and instantly aware that as the words left my lips, I was _so _busted ...

Raine raised a sceptical eyebrow and sighed heavily. "I may have been naive when it came to my husband, Sam, but don't make the mistake of playing me for a fool ... Like I said, maybe I was a bit green, but I sure ain't blind. I _know_ my son and he's changed ... and I reckon that's down to you. I know my Paul cares for you. Deeply. He probably loves you ... Hell ! I'd bet my last cent that he loves you- "

"Raine- "

"No, let me finish ! I'd even go as far as to say that he's _in_ love with you, despite you being his imprint."

My hand froze and hovered over Paul's head and my stricken gaze immediately clashed with Raine's shrewd, dark eyes. "How did you kno- ?"

She shrugged. "I've always known about imprinting ... ever since my mom told me dad had imprinted on her. They never hid anything from me."

"But- "

"Listen, I don't care if you're Paul's imprint. I don't give a damn about that. But what I _do_ care about is him. That he's happy. What you need to know, Sam, is ... Shit ! My boy's not had an easy life. Especially these last couple of years. He's had it tough and he deserves to be happy. All I ask is that you don't hurt him ... he's suffered enough."

I worried my lower lip before giving her an honest reply. "I'm not going to lie to you, Raine and make promises that I can't keep ... I do care about your son. What I feel for Paul is freakin' intense and I honestly think - no, I _know_ - I'm falling for him. So, the last thing I want to do is hurt him. Like you said, Paul's been through enough. All I can do is try my damnedest not to hurt him."

"Then I guess that's all I can ask," she replied with a ghost of a smile on her lips. A rare smile which finally reached and lit up her eyes. She looked as if she was about to say more, but the sudden knocking at the door distracted the pair of us. It also announced the arrival of the Clearwaters and any chance I had of finding out what Raine had been about to say was now long gone ...


	13. AUTHOR'S NOTE

_**Please Note: **_This is _NOT_ a chapter, but it's something I feel very strongly about.

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

_**Venting My Spleen**_

Following the latest development re: fanfic writing and, in my humble opinion, the insane decision to remove "M" rated fics due to their contents, I thought it was high time that I, like many of my fellow writers-in-crime, threw my hat in the ring and just aired my grievances.

I just want to say I'm absolutely gutted on behalf of everyone who enjoys/loves reading and writing fanfic. In fact, I'll even go as far as to say that I'm genuinely pissed off and upset.

I can understand and appreciate that part of the reason for this purge is to stop "innocent minds" or young kids from being corrupted by what they read and for my part, I concede that it does make sense. Then again, surely the responsibility of making sure that kids don't stumble across risque or explicitly violent material or even coarse language should fall on their parents/guardians ? I mean, this is partly why I tend to rate my fics as "M" ones - though I have to 'fess up that I'm clueless at rating my stuff and tend to rate them "M" for safety's sake, when most of the time, they could be classed as "T" rated stories. So it feels like a massive kick in the teeth that I could potentially lose a lot of my stories, just because I was naive or being considerate to others when I first rated my fics.

The reason why I got into writing fanfic a few years ago, is because at the time my self-confidence was at an all-time low and I was pretty depressed. Fanfic gave me the release I needed to vent, to say and do things I wouldn't normally do through the characters - so, thanks for all that, Paul and Leah ! I found writing to be great therapy and a brilliant way to let off steam, de-stress and relax, but not only that, it was great fun and I got to meet some really great people here who've become good friends. I'm still enjoying ficwriting ... or rather I _was_, 'til this devastating bombshell was dropped on us.

So, yeah ... I now find myself in a bit of a quandary. I mean, is there any point carrying on writing and posting my fics if there's a definite possibility that they'd be removed afterwards ? Hell ! The last thing I want to do is quit writing and I hate leaving my stories unfinished as I then feel I've really let down the people who've taken the time and trouble to read them and review. Basically, this has left me feeling trapped between a rock and a hard place.

The galling thing about this is that _none_ of us are writing for monetary gain. We _don't_ own nor claim to own anything that's recognizable, only what our muses and plot bunnies dictate we scribe. And we sure as hell _don't_ mean or want to cause offence to anyone.  
>Most of us write or read fanfic because we <em>genuinely <em>love and enjoy it. It's a means of escape, a flight of fancy which allows us to briefly forget the harsh realities that life throws at us. Fanfic allows us to be creative, lets our imaginations go wild and run riot and dare I say it, gives us the chance to hope and dream of better things, as well as be passionate and expressive.

The sad thing is if these killjoys get to remove these stories, then we will lose a lot of much loved fics written by some exceptionally talented writers and frankly, that's an unbearable thought ... Not only that, we lose our right to be individuals with fertile and imaginative minds and if that happens, then gods forbid, we might as well exist as lifeless, soulless robots who have no pleasure in life.

Anyhoo, if my stories end up doing a vanishing act and you guys _still_ want to read them or just want a cure for insomnia, feel free to pm me or drop by my LiveJournal or WWOMB account to catch up on anything you want to finish reading.


	14. Chapter 11

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack - in this case, our Mighty Alpha, Sam - contains pretty strong language. _

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter XI**

_**Sam's pov:**_

It's kinda weird how quick things can change in such a short space of time. How from one minute your life can turn from complete and utter crap to total euphoria. Rather like the flip of a coin or the throw of a die. And that fate can suddenly improve your life just by the simple act of the hand she deals you. And I know ... I can feel it in my bones that this time Lady Luck was smiling on me when she decided I was the one ... The one worthy of being Paul's imprint.

When I lost Emily, I genuinely believed my life was over. That there was no point carrying on. That there was nothing to live for. And then it happened. Something, or rather _someone, _proved me wrong. Showed me my life was far from freakin' over. That it was worth fighting for. That I did have a purpose and, more importantly, that I was wanted, needed and above all, loved ... And that someone was the one person I least expected it to be. Someone smart, mercurial, volatile, arrogant, reckless and brave. A person who had a godsawful, hair-trigger temper, tenuous self-control and issues with authority. Yet one who's brutally honest, unfailingly loyal with the biggest heart imaginable. And that person's identity ? My Beta and best friend. My Paul.

And yeah, after all the shit that's gone on in both our lives in such a short period of time, I do think of him now as "my Paul." I can't help it. It's become second nature to me. Call it instinct or whatever the fuck you want, I don't care. Paul's mine. My mate. My love. And, for such a dumb ass, I've finally come to realize he's the best thing that's ever fucking happened to me. And that's why I'd fight to the death and willingly lay down my life for Paul, if it meant keeping him safe and well. 'Cause thanks to him and fate, I've got a second chance ... Another chance at life ... and love. And I've no intention of fucking up and hurting the one person I'm destined to be with.

_**XXXXX**_

I'm not sure how the hell it happened, but ... I'm so fucking grateful it did.

I'm exactly where I want to be and, more importantly, with the only person who means everything to me. Truthfully ? I can hardly believe my luck. That Paul's finally in my bed. Finally in my arms, clinging to me as he silently sleeps. And it feels so good, y'know ? To have the one you're destined to be with ... the one you're crazy about, within reach. Lying next to you. Nestled at your side. To be able to care and be there for him. To simply enjoy and revel in the feel of his svelte, toned physique wrapped around mine and to savour his alluring, delicious scent.

Paul's changed physically. A lot. And I just can't get over it. But, man ... does he look good. So very,_ very _freakin' good. He's leaner, sleeker, more athletically built and looks like a professional swimmer or diver with his taut sinews. And he moves with the silent grace, agility, speed and power of a predator. My eyes are always drawn to him now. I can't help it. Nor can I deny the overwhelming hunger and need as I watch him. Only this time, no matter how badly my wolf craves it, how desperately it needs to dominate and take him, I'm gonna play by Paul's rules. Whether my wolf likes it or not, I'm gonna abide Paul's terms and listen to what he wants, 'cause until I win back his trust and his heart, his needs and wants must come first ...

And the reason for this huge u-turn of mine ? This massive change of heart ? I've finally figured that for our imprint to work, Paul _has_ to be happy. He has to be able to trust me again and know that he _can_ depend on me ... always. And right now ? What I want more than anything ? It's to make damn sure that Paul gets everything he wants. That he gets to be happy. That my stubborn, infuriatingly feisty mate realizes and understands that he's loved, respected and always has my support. 'Cause when I think about it, in hindsight, Paul's always - despite being the most volatile, aggressive, bloody-minded, shit-stirring member of the Pack - been the most selfless, protective and kind-hearted one. Particularly when it comes to those he cares for. The ones he loves.

What's pissed me off is that it's taken me up to now to see this. To recognize just how unselfish my Beta can be. How much he's sacrificed for the sake of others and how strong he had to be to deny himself the rare prize our gods deemed him worthy of. The gift of happiness and joy. An imprint. But my mate's one of life's "givers." One who unfortunately, places others' needs and wants ahead of his own. Fuck ! When I think about it, he's always done just that and I can't for the life of me remember if he ever asked for anything for himself. He'll ask, has even been known to beg, for anyone else, but I'm damned if he ever thinks of himself. Of what he desires and what he needs ... And because of it, others tend to abuse his generosity and kindness. Well, as of now, I mean to see that it stops. Anyone who tries to take advantage of him again will have to come through me. 'Cause underneath Paul's bold, brash, arrogant exterior there lies a heart of gold. And whether he realizes it or not, he can be a push-over and a bit of a soft touch when it comes to a sob story and that's why I won't tolerate anyone taking him for granted again. And that includes me too ...

So, I guess you're wondering how the hell I've gotten in this situation. That I must've done something to coerce Paul into sharing my bed. That I must have Alpha commanded him to stay with me. Something I'd sworn on my life to Jared I'd never do to my precious mate. Well, nothing could be further from the truth ...

**FLASHBACK**

Maybe I'd been a bit naive, but I really should've known that Raine, once she'd found her nerve and inner fire, would've nixed the idea of going to the hospital to be checked out.

As soon as the words left Sue Clearwater's lips, Raine knocked the suggestion on the head, faster than Jake would've gotten behind the wheel of an Aston Martin DB9 ! She was more than happy to let Sue examine and treat her, but refused point blank to go to Forks hospital. In the end, both women reached a compromise. Of sorts. The formidable Mrs Clearwater backed down on condition that Raine stayed over at hers; partly, so that she could keep a close eye on her injuries and more importantly, that Raine wasn't left alone in an empty house. A house which her violent husband could well return to at any given time. It was all too clear to everyone, that Sue didn't trust Frank Lahote to stay away, even though she knew I'd vowed to make the bastard's life a living hell if he was dumb enough to come back.

Once she'd finished tending to Raine, Sue turned her attention to Paul. Astoundingly. his lithe frame was still nestled trustingly against me. Pale, with those mesmerizing, intelligent eyes of his firmly shut, his breathing now deep and even. I'm not sure whether it was the imprint which caused the slight improvement in him, but I could only hope that being close to me had somehow helped Paul. That I seemed to have a good effect on him. Aided by Leah, Sue worked quickly and efficiently. Her hands deft and skilful as they cleaned and dressed Paul's head wound, before checking his other injuries.

"Well, I guess that's all I can do for him for now," she stated matter-of-factly as she packed away the remaining dressings in her first aid bag. "So, whenever you're ready, Raine ... I'll take you and Paul back to mine."

I'd been so wrapped up in my thoughts and enthralled by the comatose shifter in my arms that I hadn't been paying much attention to what was being said. But as soon as I heard Leah's mom mention my mate's name, I immediately tensed. My wolf's possessive streak broke free. It couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Paul. Of someone, no matter how well-intentioned, taking him away from us. It gave a low, furious snarl and my arm imperceptibly tightened around his waist, as if to strengthen my claim on him.

"_No ! _He stays with me," I growled softly, succumbing to my wolf's determination and need to keep him with us at all cost. "If anyone's gonna be taking care of Paul, it's gonna be me. No one else ... Just me !"

"Oh, please ..." Leah scoffed, giving me a dirty look. "You could barely take care of yourself a couple of months ago. What the hell makes you think you can look after Paul, huh ? Or that we'd be dumb enough to let you- "

I returned the look with a baleful glare of my own. I loved Leah as if she were my own flesh 'n' blood, but she was sorely trying my patience if she believed she could come between me and mine. And Paul ? Well, he was definitely mine ... even though he was clearly unaware of it at this exact moment.

"I'm afraid, Sam, that I have to agree with Leah- " Sue began only for me to coolly interrupt her.

"With all due respect, Mrs C., I'm grateful for all you've done tonight ... for taking care of both Paul and Raine. But you and Leah need to back off and let me look after him."

"_Mom, no ! _Don't listen to him. Paul _needs_ to be with you and Raine. _Not him !_" Leah spat, whilst still staring daggers at me. Her slender body trembled with barely contained fury. "He needs to be around people who have his best interests at heart."

I growled once more and was about to Alpha command her to butt out of my personal business, when a voice softly interrupted whatever damning accusation Leah was about to hurl at me.

"I know you mean well, Leah, sweetheart ... and I'm grateful for all you 'n' Sue have done for us both tonight. But Sam's right- "

"_WHAT ?_" A horrified Leah met Raine's calm gaze. "You're messing with me, right ? You don't mean that ?"

"I'm sorry, Leah, but my baby boy should be with his imprint ... They need each other. And I trust Sam not to hurt him. Hell ! Scratch that, I _know_ Sam won't hurt him."

The she-wolf gave a disbelieving snort and clearly wasn't happy with Raine's decision to let me be the one to take care of her son. Seeing Leah wasn't about to drop it and that she was behaving like a rottweiler with a rather juicy bone, Raine hastily cut in once more.

"I mean it. Sam knows I'd kick his ass to hell 'n' back if he does anything to hurt my baby. Paul will be perfectly safe with him."

The elder Clearwater carded slim fingers through her dark hair and eyed my mate's mother with concern. "Are you sure about this, Raine ? I mean, there's room at mine for you both."

Raine smiled faintly and nodded slowly. "Oh, I'm sure. If I didn't believe Sam cared for my son, I wouldn't let him anywhere near him. But he does. He genuinely cares for Paul and I'm positive Paul won't come to any harm with him. Sam would never forgive himself if anything happened to Paul and that's why I'm happy for him to look after my boy." To my utter astonishment, Raine turned to face me, met and held my gaze, then suddenly winked at me. She'd more or less, in front of two very stubborn, highly protective witnesses, given me both her blessing and consent to care for my injured mate. Something I'd hardly dared dream of or, if I'm honest, expected.

Blown away by Raine's faith in me, I dipped my head in acknowledgement and met her soft, yet protective gaze warmly. I immediately sensed that when it came to Paul, that we were on the same wavelength. Hell ! You could almost say we'd come to a silent and mutual understanding and that our main priority was his welfare. And that we'd both do anything and everything in our power to keep him safe and happy. Once I realized that, I instinctively knew that so long as Raine and I saw eye to eye over Paul, that we would get along well and wouldn't have any issues or problems with each other.

"So, Samuel ..."

Groaning inwardly, I noted a slight, impish smile on my mate's tiny mother's lips and braced myself for whatever she was about to say. Ever since I was a child, I'd quickly come to the conclusion that whenever anyone referred to me as "Samuel" rather than "Sam" things never turned out well. And I was rarely disappointed by that. Keeping silent, I merely raised an enquiring eyebrow and waited for whatever bomb Raine was about to drop on me.

"So," she began once more, holding my gaze confidently. "Where will you both be staying ?"

I sighed in silent relief. Thank gods for that ! I couldn't help feeling relieved that Raine wasn't about to subject me to the "third degree" regarding her son as I'd originally feared. All she wanted was to know where I planned on taking him, although if she was anything as smart as Paul, she'd soon figure out that I'd no intention of staying here. That we'd be going back to mine. ASAP.

"I'm taking him home ..." I announced quietly in a tone that would brook no argument from anyone. I cast a look in a fuming Leah's direction. Challenging her to defy my wishes. "After what happened here tonight, I'm taking no chances. I'm not risking Paul's safety ... not when that bastard of a husband of yours is still running free. I just don't trust him to stay away, Raine and there's no way in hell I'm gonna put Paul at risk. Not when Frank's loaded and out for his blood. Paul's vulnerable and the only thing I'm concerned about right now is that his old man doesn't get a chance to finish off what he started. 'Cause if he comes anywhere near Paul, even looks at him the wrong way, never mind lays a hand on him again, I won't be responsible for my actions ... No one and I mean _no one,_ gets to hurt my mate like that again ... and I swear to God, I'll kill anyone dumb or arrogant enough to try ..."

I broke eye contact and looked down at the oblivious shifter sleeping peacefully in my arms. Just the sight of the Pack's wariest member looking so relaxed and ease in my presence, calmed my inner wolf immensely. I felt my anger wane and knew that was all down to Paul. And the amazing thing was even though he was the one person capable of seriously winding me up, he was the only one with the ability to pacify and soothe me. Unaware of what I was doing, I gently ran my calloused fingertips across his cheek and to my delight, Paul unconsciously turned his head, pressing his cheek into the curve of my palm. The unexpected gesture instantly made me smile tenderly at him and caused my hard gaze to soften and become warm and affectionate.

Suddenly, I became aware of someone watching me intently. I looked up to find Raine studying me. Her gaze was intense and contemplative. It bored into me. As if searching into the very depths of my soul as it sought to find out whether my intentions towards her son were genuine. Then, surprizingly, she gave a brief nod of approval that indicated that she didn't find me lacking in any way.

"I knew there had to be a good reason why my son imprinted on you. Why the pair of you need to be together," she stated quietly, before adding with an impish grin. "You'll be good for each other ... _if _you manage to tame him, Sam. Though knowing him, he won't make it easy for you. Go ... Take him home with you. I know I'm his mom and I love and want what's best for Paul, but I can see how much you care for him. That you love him. All I ask is that you do this for me ... Do what I couldn't do ... look after Paul. Be there for him and guard him with your life, 'k ?"

Rendered speechless by her faith in me, that she trusted me to do the right thing by Paul, all I could do was nod and smile at her gratefully. Then, pointedly ignoring a frustrated, extremely anxious, albeit well-meaning she-wolf, I left. Only this time, for the first time in weeks, I wasn't going home alone. This time I'd be with the very person who'd unwittingly given me my life back. The one who gave me reason to live again.

_**XXXXX**_

Once we'd gotten home - crap ! I'm even thinking of my place as Paul's home now, which shows how far gone I am when it comes to him - I carried Paul into my bedroom. After I stripped him of his white wife beater and cutoffs and left him in his black boxers, which I thought were extremely flattering, I tucked him up in bed and reluctantly headed for the living room couch. For some inexplicable reason, I found myself pausing in the doorway to watch at him. And that's when it hit me. How good my mate looked lying asleep in _my_ bed and how right it felt to have him there. Just seeing his lithe, sinewy, caramel hued form against the crisp, white bedlinen sent a sharp bolt of need coursing through my body. I wanted Paul. Badly. Yearned to lie there with him. Craved to feel that lean, perfect body lying in my arms once more. To feel those sleek, toned muscles cloaked by heated silk, flex and writhe against my skin. But I couldn't. I wouldn't do that to him. I wouldn't take advantage of him or destroy what little trust he had left in me.

Paul suddenly flipped over beneath the covers to lie on his side. The movement caused the sheet to slide down his body until it skimmed his hips, the material clinging lovingly to the taut curve of his perfect ass. Groaning huskily at the tempting sight laid out before me and finding that my denim cutoffs had suddenly become extremely tight and uncomfortable, I quickly backed away before my wolf began to demand that I claim our mate once again. Silently, I closed the door and headed back to the living room. Back to the lumpy, old couch where I planned to bed down for the night. A long, solitary night where I knew I wouldn't get a wink of sleep.

_**XXXXX**_

I must've dozed off eventually, into rather a restless sleep. Well, there was no way in hell I'd have slept comfortably considering where I was and knowing who lay in my bed only a few feet away with just an old, knotted, oak door separating us.

It was an anguished cry that finally woke me in the early hours. Startled by its proximity, I sat bolt upright and swung my long legs over the side of the couch, before resting my elbows on top of my bare thighs. For a brief moment, I struggled to get my bearings. Then as soon as I realized where I was, another bone-chilling cry come from behind the closed door. I dragged a hand slowly down my face and glanced at the clock on the mantlepiece. It was just gone two. Closing my eyes, I groaned, then steeled myself to ignore the distressed cries which were gradually worsening. All I wanted more than anything was to go to him, but I daren't ... not after I'd vowed to respect Paul's wishes and to give him space.

But as time went by, it got harder and harder to ignore those painfilled, fearful cries and my wolf was desperate to go to him. It became increasingly agitated and pined for its mate. Wanting more than anything to soothe him and allay his fears. After almost ten minutes, it all got too much and I realized I was fighting a losing battle. My wolf was insistent in its demands to go to Paul and if I'm honest, I found it impossible to stay away. I wanted to be with him. Fuck ! I _needed_ to be with Paul. To reassure, comfort and love him. In my haste to get to him, I forgot about the native print blanket which covered my lower body and quickly got tangled up in the vast amount of cloth as well as stubbing my toe against one of the coffee table's legs. Once I'd gotten free, I scrambled hastily towards the door and opened it.

Paul thrashed agitatedly upon the mattress. The sheet that I'd previously covered him with now lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. The closer I got to him, the signs of his distress became more apparent. His torso was slick with perspiration and unusually for a shifter, his skin covered with gooseflesh. Paul's brow was deeply furrowed and his lean, handsome face was etched with pain. Every so often an agonized, whimper escaped his lips as he writhed in obvious discomfort. Yet he continued to sleep and was unable to escape from his nightmare. Worried, I bent over him and immediately scented tears. Fresh ones. Paul's tears. His right hand suddenly lashed out, as if to strike something and instinctively, I captured it, fearing he might hurt himself in some way.

As soon as his flesh came into contact with mine, I heard Paul's breath hitch. He froze for an instant, then whether he sensed my presence or not, his body stilled and gradually the tension ebbed away from it. My heart began to race wildly and I panicked. I'd succeeded in calming Paul down, only to find myself in a bind. I couldn't stay here. Not when I'd promised to back off and leave him be. To let him decide if he wanted to be with me or not. It was Paul's decision to make and I didn't want him to feel pressured into something he didn't want. Something he'd regret. And right now, he was vulnerable and oh so defenceless. Carefully, I began to prise his fingers off my hand, only to feel his long, slender digits fiercely tighten their grip upon me. I tried once more to free myself and his grasp became a deathgrip. Firm and unyielding. Then, I thought I heard something.

At first, I thought I was hearing things. That I'd imagined it. That my tired, confused brain was playing tricks on me. But then I heard it again and this time, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, I couldn't.

"S-Stay ... please ?" Paul's voice was raspy with sleep and choked with tears. "Don't go ... Don't leave me. I ... I need you ..."

By then, whether it was due to lack of sleep, the relentless struggle with my wolf's demands or the desperate need just to be with Paul that made me finally give in to temptation, I'll never know for sure. Maybe it was a combination of all three. But in the end, I caved in. I couldn't help it. Even though, Paul was half asleep, he'd still managed to hone in on my weakness ... my Achilles' heel. My need to please and to care for him. To earn his forgiveness and that I needed him as badly as he needed me. Finally admitting defeat, I slid onto the mattress beside my mate and cursed softly, before cradling him in my arms and murmuring words which were meant to comfort and soothe him.

I was a damn fool. A fucking idiot for giving in so easily. For not putting up a fight. But then again, I was Paul's damn freakin' fool and if he needed me ... _if _he wanted me to stay with him, well, who the hell was I to deny him ?

**END OF FLASHBACK**

So ... in a nutshell, that's how I ended up in bed with my feisty, unpredictable Beta sprawled on top of me. How the dream which has plagued me over the past couple of weeks finally became a reality ... yet not quite in the way I thought it would.

And the irony of the situation ? I ended up with my arms full of clinging Beta, nestling and writhing against me all night and never got a wink of sleep. And the reason for that ? Said Beta's a devil in disguise who, once he managed to play on my weakness and lured me into bed, did nothing but sleep soundly and contentedly as his lean, sinfully perfect body curled into my side. What isn't helping now, is the way Paul's wrapped his leg around mine or the feel of his morning wood unconsciously brushing against my thigh as he attempts to get comfortable. All those things just make me constantly aware of him. How much I want him ... and how badly I need him.

And it's like a vicious circle, y'know ? 'Cause the more aware I am, the more I want. The more I want, the more I need. The more I need ... well, you get the freakin' picture, right ? I crave him desperately. But I daren't act on it. I won't ... not until he's ready or unless he gives me the all clear to make a move. And I can't see that happening any time soon. No matter how much I want it to. What Paul doesn't know is that he owns me. Heart. Body. And soul. He has me by the balls and I doubt I'd have the strength to deny him anything. What I feel - how he makes me feel - is turning me into a fucking wuss and honestly ? I don't give a shit. I don't give a damn. What I do give a damn about though, is the way the slightest, most innocent touch of his can instantly make my body betray me. How Paul has the ability to make me uncomfortably hard within seconds, without even being aware of it ... as well as the knack he has of making my body clench and throb with need.

So, here I am. Flat on my back, desperately trying to ignore my wolf's need to dominate and mate with my Beta. Fighting the urge to strip away our clothes and give in to the intense need to claim Paul. And just when I think my problems can't get any worse ... they do. I can't help tensing as I feel my mate's hand skim over my abs, past my happy trail before his callused fingers slip beneath the waistband of my boxers.

Frozen and helpless, all I can do is slowly close my eyes and bite my lower lip in a vain attempt to stifle the needy moan that's threatening to escape. Even though I'm not religious, I pray to gods that I won't embarrass myself as the rest of Paul's hand descends into my briefs. The effect he has on my treacherous body is instantaneous. Despite my best intentions, little Sam springs to life and becomes impossibly hard.

And all the while, only one thought races around in my head: _I'm so fucking screwed once Paul wakes up ..._


	15. Chapter 12

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language.  
>This messed up chapter is the product of a warped mind of a very confused, extremely hormonal, lovesick wolf who simply hasn't "got some" for quite some time (it might be a good idea to bear in mind that he's also taken a knock to the noggin during the run in with his old man) ... so yeah, in this instance maybe, just once, he could be forgiven for feeling and acting the way he does !<em>

**XXXXX**

**Previously:**

_**Sam's pov:**_

So, here I am. Flat on my back, desperately trying to ignore my wolf's need to dominate and mate with my Beta. Fighting the urge to strip away our clothes and give in to the intense need to claim Paul. And just when I think my problems can't get any worse ... they do. I can't help tensing as I feel my mate's hand skim over my abs, past my happy trail before his callused fingers slip beneath the waistband of my boxers.

Frozen and helpless, all I can do is slowly close my eyes and bite my lower lip in a vain attempt to stifle the needy moan that's threatening to escape. Even though I'm not religious, I pray to gods that I won't embarrass myself as the rest of Paul's hand descends into my briefs. The effect he has on my treacherous body is instantaneous. Despite my best intentions, little Sam springs to life and becomes impossibly hard.

And all the while, only one thought races around in my head: _I'm so fucking screwed once Paul wakes up ..._

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter XII**

_**Paul's pov:**_

I'm tired ... so fucking tired. Just sick 'n' tired of everything. I gave up everything I had to give and now there's nothing left. And I gave my imprint my all. My heart ... Body. And soul. And what do I have to show for it, huh ? Fuck all. Scratch that, come to think of it, there is something ... I may not have anything to show for it now, but a couple of months down the line ? Boy, will I have something that I won't be able to hide. Or run away from. And that scares me. If I'm honest, it scares the fucking shit out of me. And that's something I never thought I'd hear myself say or admit. That I'm genuinely panic-stricken at the very thought of what's looming ahead of me. All I've been able to feel lately is fear, doubt, anger and confusion ... and pain. Such intense, relentless pain.

I ache. And it's not just physical, despite the old man really going to town when he laid into me this time. Nah, I also hurt mentally and emotionally and it's all down to this goddamn imprint. It's left me completely shattered. Exhausted. And I wish to gods I never imprinted in the first place. I'm pissed that my right to choose who I fall in love with, my free will, has been stolen from me. Yet, in hindsight, even though I hate the fact that I imprinted, that I've ended up love's bitch, I realize it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Even if it means I'm irrevocably tied to a guy. A man who happens to be my best friend and my Alpha. Someone whose good will my happiness entirely depends on.

Despite Sam's assertion that he wants to be with me, that he's more than willing to accept the imprint, I can't help having doubts. Or being wary of him and his motives. Honestly ? I'm still struggling to forget our past. The way he treated me. Hell ! I may have forgiven him, but trying to forget ? That's so fucking tough ... no matter how badly I'd like to sweep it all under a rug and for us to move on. To start off with a clean slate. 'Cause when all's said 'n' done, Sam's my imprint and I love him more than life itself. But it's only natural for me to be suspicious of him, isn't it ? I've always been pretty guarded when it comes to my true feelings, but being the most gung-ho wolf in the pack, the one with a hair-trigger temper, it's kinda unusual for me to be so cautious. Especially seeing as I'm the impulsive one who tends to end up to his neck in crap on a regular basis. It's not clever and it sure ain't something I'm proud of. But the undeniable fact is that I can be a bastard. And most of the time, I'm a massive jerk. I can't and _won't_ deny it. After all, if I did, it'd only make me a bigger asshole than I already am. And I'm the biggest fuckwit I know and I ain't proud of it either ...

Like I said earlier, I seem to be in a permanent state of confusion lately and even more of a moody bastard than usual. All I can say is that my stupid, reckless behaviour's down to my "delicate condition." It's the only excuse I've got for being so erratic, so all over the fucking place all the freakin' time. And I swear to gods, I'm never _ever_ gonna give Leah a hard time for being a hormonal bitch again. Not after seeing I'm capable of being an even greater or worse bitch. Turns out I'm even more of a freak of nature than our much loved she-wolf. A former dominant Beta who imprinted on his Alpha; a Beta who - thanks to said imprint, mated with and got marked by said Alpha - that mysteriously ended up a submissive with the ability to carry cubs. The sick joke here is that someone as maternal as Leah is denied the chance to have children, unless she stops phasing altogether. And that's so very cruel, especially when a complete dog like me, who had no intentions of ever having kids, is forced to do just that. So, yeah, I can totally sympathize with Leah and all she's gone through ... More than she'll ever know. And the irony of the situation ? For someone who hated the thought of kids, I've done a complete u-turn. Somehow, I've gotten seriously protective of Uley Jr, or Little Wolfie as I've started to think of him. Whether it's 'cause my imprint is the sire of my cub, I dunno, but despite my better judgement I do care for or more accurately, I've come to love the little tyke. And that's why I've got to man up and retrieve my balls. I need to quit stalling and 'fess up to Sam that he's knocked me up and that we, Sam Jr and I, need him. Badly. There, I've said it ... finally admitted that I need Sam and his support. Not only do I need it, I crave it. Desperately.

Only right now, I'm too drained ... too hurt and confused to do anything about it. I've never been so tired. So shattered. Just want to curl up somewhere, close my eyes and sleep like the dead ... and hopefully, when I wake up, all this will have been just a bad dream. Though knowing my luck, I ain't gonna hold my breath ...

_**XXXXX**_

God ! This has to be the best dream I've had for ages. Well, it's definitely been the best night's sleep I've had for a while. Definitely since I imprinted. It's just good to just sleep. To have no nightmares and just feel safe and warm for a change. I've kinda lost track when I last felt like this. Of when I didn't wake up disorientated, scared stiff and trembling with fear and cold.

I've said it once, but I'll say it again ... I'm having a good dream. One that I don't want to wake up from. And yeah, as always it's about my imprint. My Sam. Only this time, Sam's not rejecting me. In fact, it's just the opposite ... he's busting a gut to take care of me. To be with me. It's such a damn shame that real life can't compare with my imagination and my dreams.

I vaguely remember what happened at home with the old man; how badly he'd battered mom before he laid into me; how scared I was for the little one when I was unable to shift to protect him. After that, everything kinda got a bit fuzzy ... became one huge blur. Then I passed out briefly. Sounds and voices became muffled as I drifted in and out of consciousness and my vision was distorted. I knew I was hurt. Could smell blood. My blood as well as my mom's. Then before I realized what was happening, I felt a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap around then carefully lift me; the sensation of being cradled protectively against hot, smooth, russet skin which covered a powerful, toned torso. A torso I couldn't help nestling against, especially once I recognized its scent as the one I'd hoped it would be. It was clean and musky, yet held a woodsy, citrus undertone. And there was only one person, one Pack member, I knew who smelled that way. Sam. My head demanded that I stay away from him, while my body and heart refused to obey and even if I found the strength to do so, my inner wolf would fight desperately to stay with our imprint.

But damn, it was a good dream. One, I was more than happy to cling to like grim death. Not only was it a good one, it was so vivid. So tangible. I dreamt I was in bed. Asleep. Then suddenly, I was caught up in a nightmare. One where I was rejected by everyone. From my old man who never wanted me in the first place, to my mom who regretted keeping me and the Pack who turned against me and claimed a sub had no business being a Beta. And worst of all, there was Sam, who rejected me and the imprint in no uncertain terms. That he wished I'd died, not Emily. That I was nothing but a freak, unworthy of being a wolf let alone Pack Beta. That he couldn't and wouldn't need or want, never mind love me. That he couldn't, wouldn't, be with a fag like me. And just to reinforce his point, he attacked before abjuring me from the Pack. Leaving me alone. Battered, bloody and bruised and wishing I was dead. Well, if I couldn't be with the Pack, with my imprint, then I may as well be dead.

All of a sudden, a strong arm wrapped itself around me, drawing me close. Offering me comfort and solace. Before I could stop myself, I'd coiled my arms and legs around him and clung unashamedly to my imprint. Sam's breath hitched and he froze for an instant before slowly relaxing. I was dimly aware of the deep rumble of his husky voice, yet nothing he said seemed to sink in. All my concentration was fixated on Sam. That Sam was here. With me. Holding me. Caring for me. And doing it of his own free will. With that thought, I let go of all of my doubts and fears and simply revelled in the feel of his toned, strapping body against mine as well as his tantalizing, mouthwatering scent. I gave a silent sigh of contentment. Things were as they should be. I was finally where I was meant to be. Where I needed - no, wanted - to be. With my imprint ... even if it was just a dream.

But if it was a dream, I could do anything I wanted ... right ? Could live out my fantasies without fear or condemnation. Without vilification ... I could do what the hell I pleased and no one would be any the wiser. Except me. After all, it's my dream. I may not have Sam in reality, but here ? Here, at least I'd have the illusion of happiness. Of being loved and being given the chance to love him as he deserves to be loved and desired. And when it comes right down to the wire, I do desire and love him. I'm in love with him. Even if he can't or won't see it. But seeing as it's a dream, nobody gets hurt. Except maybe me for wanting someone I can never have, but at least I can imagine what it's like to be with my Alpha ... to be had by him as I'd always wanted him to have me. So, what the fuck have I got to lose ? Fuck all, as far as I can tell. Sam would never know. Would never be put in the awkward position of having to deny me or suffer the indignity of seeing just how desperate I've become, just so that I could be with him. So, basically, it's a case of no harm, no foul ...

In the end, I didn't take much convincing. In reality, my life sucked. So, if there was the slightest glimmer of happiness to be had, then I was gonna take it even though I knew deep down, nothing would come of it. Reaching out, I skimmed a hand down his rock-hard abs. At first, my touch was tentative, but gradually I gained confidence and began to enjoy the feel of his sleek, powerful frame cloaked in hot velvet beneath my hand. I felt Sam abruptly tense, yet the need and longing I had for him made me more daring. It gave me courage and oddly enough, something else ... Hope. Then, before I totally wimped out, I nestled closer to him and allowed my hand to seek out what it eagerly sought ... For a dream, all I can say is that it seemed so very, very real. His scent was alluring. So masculine. Virile. As I gently curled my fingers around his thick length, I could've sworn I heard his breath hitch. Sam froze for an instant, then slowly relaxed. The tension ebbed away from his powerful frame, except for where it truly mattered. I held his dick reverently in my hand, marvelling at how right it felt to hold it ... how perfectly it fit in my grasp. It felt like hard, smooth granite encased in warm silk. And the longer I held it ? The harder it was to let go. Unable to resist temptation, I began to lazily stroke him, my grip gradually tightening around him as I revelled in the feel and the scent of his arousal. Well, who in their right mind could possibly resist the temptation known as Sam Uley ? I sure as hell couldn't ... not when he lay beside me in almost all of his ruggedly handsome glory. And he sure is handsome. Breathtakingly and undeniably so.

And as I happily devoured the sight of my imprint while I continued to caress him, that's when the shit hit the proverbial fan ...

_**XXXXX**_

"_WTF ? _Paul ?"

"_WTF ? _Sam !"

Seeing Sam hastily scramble away only to fall on his ass on the bedroom floor quickly brought me to my senses. Mortified by what I'd done, I groaned inwardly and closed my eyes. Shit ! It hadn't been a dream. I'd actually gone and groped my imprint and humped him like a dog in heat. Crap ! Could my life actually get any worse ? Could I even manage to embarrass myself further ? Normally the sight of my cool, unflappable Alpha being totally flustered would have been a great source of amusement. But seeing Sam's stunning, whiskey-hued eyes widen in a strange combination of panic and longing had guilt gnawing away at me. And 'cause I felt guilty, I immediately got defensive and pissed. Not with Sam, but with myself and the plight I'd unwittingly gotten into. Matters weren't helped when I realized I was still as hard as a rock and then I made the fatal mistake of looking at Sam. He looked hellishly uncomfortable, probably due to the situation we were in and the fact that he had a boner that exceeded mine on all levels. Sam fired an accusing glare right back at me.

"_What ?" _I snapped indignantly. "Just what the fuck's your problem ? And what the hell were you doing in my bed ?"

" Huh ? 'Scuse me ? _My problem ? Your bed ?" _Sam growled sexily, a fire suddenly igniting in his red-gold eyes. "When I last checked, bro, this was _my_ bed- "

"The hell it is !"

"Hell, yeah ... My bed ... My room ... My home, Paul," he stated bluntly, meeting my gaze head on.

Fuck ! I hastily scoped the room and quickly realized that this was so not my bed, my room or my home. I really should've caught on to that as the bed itself was far more comfortable than mine. Man, I was so fucking screwed. "So ? Just 'cause it's your territory, it sure as hell doesn't give you the freakin' right to jump into bed with me ... or try anything- "

Sam gave an incredulous snort. "Hey ! _I_ wasn't the one freakin' out in the middle of the night and having problems sleeping. And _I_ so wasn't the one dry humping his Alpha or touching him up. _You_ were the one who woke me and got me hauling my ass off the living room couch. _You_ were the one in a cold sweat, having freakin' nightmares. I didn't have to come in here to try and comfort you ... but I did. I could've easily ignored you ... but I didn't. I came ... I came here 'cause I couldn't stand hearing you in so much pain. That you were hurting so bad. I just wanted to help. I wasn't the one taking advantage or trying to cop a feel in any way. I wouldn't do that ... even if I wanted to. Not after all you've been through yesterday- "

"S-Sam ... ?" Whatever it was I was about to say was forgotten as I was struck by a sudden bout of nausea as my stomach turned and began to play up like crazy. Oh, gods ! Perfect. Just freakin' perfect. That's all I needed. Talk about perfect timing, or what ... The last thing I wanted was for Sam to see was me spewing my guts all over the place. For my imprint to see me being as sick as a dog. That familiar searing feeling of acid rising up my throat had me swallowing hard and I quickly scrambled off the bed. I could feel the blood drain from my face and suddenly felt cold and clammy. I needed the bathroom ... and I needed it fast. "Oh, Jeez ..."

"Hey, what's this ?" Sam smirked, pushing himself off the doorframe which he'd been leaning against. "Don't tell me the Pack Beta's screwed up and realized he's actually got something wrong." He moved forward and stopped directly in front of me. Effectively blocking my access to the hall which led to the bathroom.

Feeling dizzy, I swayed slightly and mumbled, "Outta my way ... I gotta ..."

"You don't have to go on my account y'know, Paul ... After all, when you think about it, _mi casa es su casa _... _My bed is your bed_- "

By now, the place was spinning like crazy and I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. "I got no time for this ... Please, Sam ... will you just move your fucking ass and let me pass ?" Once I thought I had the nausea under control, I opened my eyes and found my imprint watching me thoughtfully through narrowed eyes.

"What's the rush, Paul ?" he asked softly. "I more or less told you you could stay. That you could make yourself at home. Didn't anyone tell you, that you were more likely to get what you want by using a little honey rather than vinegar ?"

I glared at him through tired eyes and snarled half-heartedly, "Sam, for the last time, don't piss me off, quit being a jerk and move for fuck's sake ... I mean it, if you don't, you'll regret it- "

He raised an eyebrow sceptically and snorted in amusement. "Oh, Paulie, I don't think so somehow."

"Swear to gods, Sam, if you don't move your goddamn carcass pretty damn quick, then I won't be held responsible for accidentally throwing up on you. Now, for the last time, freakin' _MOVE_, will ya ?"

My words must've had the desired effect as he hastily stepped aside and I bolted for the bathroom at break neck speed. I only just made it, fell to my knees and began to vomit copiously into the toilet bowl. Minutes passed and even though I'd emptied the contents of my stomach, I continued to painfully retch and clung to the white porcelain bowl like grim death. I was dimly aware of the sound of bare feet padding softly across the wooden floorboards, then the sound of water running into a glass. Afterwards, once the retching had finally - thank gods ! - stopped, I slumped weakly and dared not move away in case of any accidents. A large, warm hand came to rest between my shoulder blades and began to soothingly rub my aching muscles, temporarily distracting me from the nausea which threatened to flare up once more.

"Better ?" Sam's husky voice was full of concern. Slowly, I raised my head and met his worried gaze and was immediately struck by the sympathetic expression on his face. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded wearily. "You should've said something, bro ... Should've told me you weren't well- "

"I-I tried ..."

"Y'know I wouldn't have given you such a hard time, if I'd known you were sick. Here, take this ..." He handed me a glass of water. I took it from him gratefully and nodded my thanks before sipping cautiously from it, not wanting to aggravate my guts any more than I already had. "How ... How long have you been like this ?"

"A couple of weeks, I guess ..." I muttered reluctantly and suddenly found that I couldn't meet Sam's eyes. Turning my head, I began to worry my lower lip and carefully placed the glass on the floor beside me.

"Fuck ! _A couple of weeks ? _Goddamnit, Paul ! Have you seen someone about this ? D'ya even know what's wrong with you ?" Sam agitatedly rubbed his nape and I could hear the frown in his voice. There was no doubt, that my imprint was pissed with and worried about me.

Exhausted, I sighed and realized it was now or never. I had to bite the bullet and 'fess up to Sam what was wrong with me. "Give or take," I replied quietly. "But, yeah ... I know what's wrong with me."

"Then tell me, for pity's sake ! If you're sick, you're gonna need my help- "

I finally found the nerve to look up and my eyes made contact with his. "I ain't sick, Sam ..."

He snorted in disbelief. "Bullshit, Paul ! If spewing your guts ain't being sick, then I'd love to know what is- " He carded restless fingers through his his neatly cropped, spiking it.

Glaring at him, I snapped angrily. "If you'd just shut up, I'll tell you. I ain't sick ... I'm fucking pregnant, Sam !"

"Pregnant ? Nah ... That's impossible." He slowly shook his head in disbelief. "You're a guy ... you can't have- "

"Huh ! That's what I thought. Seems like we were both wrong on that score," I replied bitterly, studing him carefully before I dropped the bombshell on him.

"Then ... then who's the father ?"

I rolled my eyes and took another deep breath. "You, Sam ... You're the one who knocked me up, dumbass. Congratulations, _you're_ gonna be a dad !"


	16. AN II

**A/N II**

As you may have already guessed, this isn't an update.

Sorry to have to do this, but I've hit a bit of a wall with _**"Captive" **_and I need to take a time out to get things straight in my head with the plotline. :( I know where the story's headed and how it's gonna end, but right now, I'm trying to figure out how to get from A to B without it being too "naff" as we say over here in the UK ! Anyhoo, 'til then I'll be working on another KA fic, _**"The Wolf and The Mage" **_on my **Lycanus1** account, in the vain hope it'll get my muse to pull her finger out of her butt to work on this one ... so, I guess for now, I'll be praying like crazy for inspiration to strike sooner rather than later.

Sorry to do this 'cause I feel I'm really letting you guys down and I hope you'll stick with it and carry on keeping an eye out for _**"Captive's" **_next update.


	17. Chapter 13

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language. _

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Previously:**

_**Paul's pov:**_

Glaring at him, I snapped angrily. "If you'd just shut up, I'll tell you. I ain't sick ... I'm fucking pregnant, Sam !"

"Pregnant ? Nah ... That's impossible." He slowly shook his head in disbelief. "You're a guy ... you can't have- "

"Huh ! That's what I thought. Seems like we were both wrong on that score," I replied bitterly, studing him carefully before I dropped the bombshell on him.

"Then ... then who's the father ?"

I rolled my eyes and took another deep breath. "You, Sam ... You're the one who knocked me up, dumbass. Congratulations, _you're_ gonna be a dad !"

_**XXXXX**_

**Chapter XIII**

_**Sam's pov:**_

As soon as my mate spat those words at me, "Congratulations, _you're _gonna be a dad !" both my brain and body short-circuited and instantly shut down.

Six little words. That's all they were. Yet they were six little words which carried a helluva clout and would have a huge impact on my life. Fuck ! On _both_ our lives ...

At first, I thought it was one great big wind up. That Paul was taking the piss. But going by the grim expression on his lean, attractive face and the dull look in those dark, beautiful, expressive eyes, I came to realize that it was no joke. That he was deadly serious and genuinely believed what he'd told me. Yet it couldn't possibly be true ... There was no way I'd knocked him up. He was a guy after all. It was physically impossible for him to conceive ... To be able to carry a kid ... wasn't it ? Then again, when I think about it, shifters and vamps weren't meant to exist either. They were supposed to be creatures of myth. Bogeymen parents used to keep unruly kids in line. Fantastical beings and monsters born of the supernatural realm. Not a part of real life. Yet here we were, large as (un)life and twice as ugly, as Leah would often quip. So maybe, just maybe, there was a huge possibility that Paul's confession was true and if so ...

Suddenly, I was lost in thought. Trapped, as my imagination began to run riot. Deafened, by the white noise which rang incessantly in my ears and struck blind to everything, barring the unusually edgy, handsome Quileute shifter who stood before me, fidgetting uneasily as I remained silent. Yet that wasn't completely true either. I was looking at Paul, yet I didn't _see_ him, if that makes any sense. Dimly aware of his presence, yet not acknowledging him.

It was only when a clearly upset Paul made a move to roughly shoulder past me out of the bathroom, I broke free from my trance and what he'd said finally began to sink in. _God ! _I was gonna to be a dad. Fatherhood wasn't something I'd considered. Hadn't been on top of my "things to do in life" list. Then again, being a wolf who off-ed vamps on a regular basis, being imprinted on and finding my soulmate hadn't appeared on that particular list either. But they'd happened just the same. Whether I wanted them to or not. Just like the role of dad had. Now, if I said that I wasn't scared of the thought of raising a kid, I'd be a fucking liar. 'Course I was freakin' scared. Hell ! Terrified was probably closer to the truth. And with good reason too as it turned out. After all, neither Paul or I had good role models as fathers. Mine had been an absolute no-show right from the off. Hadn't wanted to know and never stuck around for my mom or provided her any support physically, mentally, emotionally or financially. We never got a dime from him and struggled for years to survive on the piss-poor pittance we got from the state, 'til mom passed away from breast cancer which had been diagnosed way too late for her to get any help.

And then there was Frank Lahote, Paul's old man. He was a real peach. A vindictive, violent, drunken bastard of the first degree who did nothing but humiliate, bully and regularly beat up his poor, gentle wife and son for years. The man was pure scum. Rotten through 'n' through and it's surprizing Paul's turned out has well as he has, considering his dad's bad to the bone. So yeah, I'd good cause to view the idea of fatherhood with trepidation and could only hope 'n' pray that I'd never be like either of them. That I'd somehow be able to support Paul and love both him and our cub as they deserved to be loved.

The biggest and probably the most vital difference between our parents situations and Paul's and mine was that I genuinely cared for my mate. That I was in love with him. All I'd come to want was what was best for him. For him to be truly happy. And oddly, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. There was nothing I yearned for more than to be with him. To have Paul at my side. For keeps. I wanted him and to my astonishment, I realized if I wanted to be happy, truly happy, I also needed him. And suddenly, the idea of being a dad wasn't so frightening ... not if it meant I could be with Paul. If I'm honest, I was starting to find the idea of us being a family, appealing. Extremely appealing ... especially if it meant that Paul and I would be bound together even more intricately. So, instead of seeing the negatives or cons of the situation, I began to see Paul's pregnancy as a huge positive. Something which had the potential to make us both very happy ... _if _we gave each other a chance. Hell ! I _definitely_ knew what I wanted and that was Paul and if it meant manning up and accepting my responsibilities, then it was a miniscule price to pay. One which I was only too happy to do. I could only hope he felt the same way.

A faint smile began to curve my lips and I slowly shook my head in awe. This was gonna be the biggest, most important decision I'd ever make, but I was gonna do this. I_ wanted _to do this. Fuck me ! I was gonna be a father. A dad. I had a family. Something I never expected to have outside of the Pack, yet always longed for. And it was all down to Paul. My feisty, hotheaded, stubborn, proud, gorgeous mate.

_Shit ! Paul !_

How the hell could I have forgotten him ? What must he think of me ? Instead of responding to his confession, I'd zoned out like a fool and left him hanging. My gaze fell upon him and I immediately felt like a complete heel. My poor mate looked both stricken and angry. His dark eyes glistened with unshed tears and his lithe frame trembled, whether from the chill in the air or from his emotions I don't know. All I could see was how upset he was and I mentally bitch slapped myself for being such a bastard to him.

"Paul, I- "

"Oh, _it _speaks ..." Paul spat, wrapping his left arm protectively around his midriff as he stumbled towards the doorway. He turned his head away and refused to look at me.

"Paul, I'm sorry ... so very sorry," I began yet got no further.

"_Sorry ? You're_ sorry ? I just bet you're fucking sorry. Sorry that I was dumb enough to imprint on you. Sorry that you got saddled with me ... Sorry that you fucking knocked me up. Sorry for this goddamn clusterfuck of a mess." Paul's breath hitched and his voice sounded broken and riddled with pain. Pain I immediately wanted to get shot of as his pain was also mine. Without thinking, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his right wrist and pulled him towards me, startling him.

"Sam," Paul's eloquent, mollasses-hued eyes were wide with panic. "Let go. Please, just let me go- "

Normally, I'd do anything for him. Anything he wanted. Anything that was in my power to grant him. But _not_ this. Not_ this _time. I'd let him bolt from me far too often so that he could flee and hide behind those thick defensive walls of his. And that's where our problems began. With Paul's fear of confiding. His lack of trust. And me being way too soft with him. But from now on, things were going to change. Things _had_ to. For the sake of our cub and for our own good.

"No ! I can't do that, Paul. I _won't_ do that," I replied huskily, hating to see him so distressed as he struggled to wrench his wrist from my grasp. Instinctively, my grip firmed, yet remained gentle. My thumb absently and repeatedly grazed his pulse point as I marvelled at how fragile he'd become.

"P-Please, Sam, _don't _... don't do this."

Paul continued to fight to break free, his eyes pleading desperately for me to release him. But I wasn't about to yield to him. I couldn't. _I daren't. _'Cause I knew if I did, it'd be the last I'd see of him. He'd be off like a shot. Instead, I stood my ground and gave his wrist a sharp tug. Paul lost his footing and in a vain attempt to gain his balance reached out his free hand to steady himself. It landed on my left bicep and in doing so, closed the gap between us. And before he could do anything, before he could step away from me, I drew him close 'til we stood with barely a hair's breadth between us. Toe to toe. Shoulder to shoulder. Chest to chest. And it felt so good to be so close to him. It was just good to be able to hold him. Touch him. Feel lithe sinew flex and tense beneath smooth, heated skin. To smell that hypnotic scent of his up close. The captivating aroma of sun, sand and ocean spray that I always connected with Paul.

Paul held himself rigid in my arms and the look he gave me was a strange mix of panic and defiance. A lone tear slowly trickled down his cheek, causing my gaze to soften. I reached out and gently brushed it away with the ball of my thumb. He gave an imperceptible flinch that damn near broke my heart. The last thing I ever intended was for Paul to be frightened of me.

"What do I have to do, Paul, to prove to you that I want this, huh ? That I really want us to work," I pleaded softly, cautiously releasing his wrist so that my hand could rest on his neck, my fingers gently caressing his nape. "That I want you ... and our baby- "

"Why should I believe you ? When I ... When I told you, you said fuck all. Not a single fucking word, Sam. You just zoned out on me completely. So why the hell should I believe you give a damn about me ? You don't give a shi- ... _mmmph !"_

I couldn't take any more of his doubts nor lack of self-worth, so I shut him up the only way I knew how. I kissed him.

As far as a first proper first kiss went, it didn't go according to plan. Instead of a sweet, tender, loving kiss that conveyed how much I longed for him, it was rough, heated and full of raw passion. Well, on my part at least. At first, Paul tensed then struggled briefly with a ferocity which I'm ashamed to 'fess up to, only increased my arousal for him. Then, unexpectedly, the fight left him and to my astonishment and delight, he began to respond. With a soft, needy moan, he looped an arm around my neck and pressed his lithe body wantonly against mine. I felt his lips soften and part as he returned my kisses with a desperate hunger that matched my own. I immediately took advantage of the situation and slid my tongue into his mouth and began to duel with and massage his before mapping every inch of that moist, wet cavern. After a while, a breathless Paul weakly pushed me away and stared at me through dilated, lustful eyes. He ran the tip of his tongue over his kiss-swollen lips and his chest rose and fell quickly as he panted deeply.

Raising my hand, I lightly traced the back of my forefinger down his cheek before gently rubbing his lower lip. "And you say I don't give a shit ? Damn, Paul ! You're all I think about ... You're on my mind 24/7. I don't just want you anymore, I fucking love you ... I'm _in_ love with you, dumb-ass ! I could make you happy if you just give me a chance, yeah ?" By now, my hands had drifted down his flanks before coming to rest on his hips and my eyes followed suit, taking in his lean form with appreciation. I couldn't get over how lithe and slender he'd become. Sure, he was still toned and ripped, only not half as bulky as the rest of the Pack and as I glanced down, I noticed that his waist appeared slightly thicker than usual and before I could stop myself, I'd laid a hand gently against the gentle curve of his abdomen.

"The reason why I didn't say anything earlier about the baby is that I was trying to get my head around it, y'know ? It wasn't that I didn't want anything to do with you or the little one. _I do_. You just caught me unawares, 's all. I mean, you've known about it for a couple of weeks and had time for everything to sink in. I'm still processing it all- " Paul stiffened and I knew instantly that he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. That I was rejecting the pair of them. He quickly averted his gaze and I groaned inwardly. "Hey ! _Hey ! _Paul ! Don't even think it. I'm not walking away from the pair of you. I'm not rejecting you _or_ our baby. And I'm _definitely_ not pissed about what's happened. If it means I get to be with you, that I get to have a family of my own, then ... Hell ! This is the best thing that's happened to me. I'm far from pissed, if anything you've made me so happy. All I want is you and now, knowing you're carrying my kid, that's just a bonus, Paul. It's not just you I want any more, it's both of you ..."

"Sam, I'm sorr- " Paul sighed wearily and slumped drowsily against me. "Sorry for being a jerk ... I'm just all over the place right now, I can't help it ..."

"Shhh ... it's ok. I get it. You're tired and you've been through a helluva lot, you're entitled to be a little whacked right now." I gave him a lopsided grin to show I'd no hard feelings. And I meant it, my poor mate looked absolutely shattered and despite being battered and bruised, he was still beautiful to me. "C'mon, you look done in. I'm taking you back to bed, Paul. You need to get some rest ..." And before he did anything crazy like protest, I carefully picked him up and carried him back to bed, all too aware of him nestling against me. His warm breath ghosting over my skin and his sensual, oh-so kissable lips gently, yet sleepily, nuzzling my throat.

Hope began to flare within me. Maybe, just maybe, I stood a chance of winning over my hard-headed, spirited mate after all.


	18. Chapter 14

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language. Plus, this is where things _finally _start to heat up ... _

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter XIV**

_**Paul's pov:**_

"Why should I believe you ? When I ... When I told you, you said fuck all. Not a single fucking word, Sam. You just zoned out on me completely. So why the hell should I believe you give a damn about me ? You don't give a shi- ... _mmmph !"_

I knew I was in deep shit as soon as I felt Sam's lips claim mine. And boy, did he claim them ... It was _nothing_ like I expected or imagined our first kiss to be. There was no hesitation on Sam's part. No sign of wariness. No fumbling. No accidental bumping of noses or any shit like that. Nope, it was none of those things. Instead it was a kiss borne of supreme confidence. Of undeniable dominance, intense need, burning hunger and raw passion. And it was pure Alpha male.

When his lips first came into contact with mine, I froze in stunned disbelief. Then, just as quickly I began to struggle in a half-hearted show of protest before letting myself be consumed by the kiss. And there's no denying that Sam Uley _can_ kiss. Gods ! Can that imprint of mine kiss ... So, you can bet your ass I didn't struggle or protest for long. In all honesty, I couldn't ... didn't want to. All I wanted was to be swept away by his kiss. To be set alight by Sam's passion. His need ... and his desire. Any resistance or objections I had, simply vanished and were quickly forgotten. It took no time at all for him to coax a response from me and if I hadn't wrapped an arm around Sam's neck and pushed my slight frame restlessly against his huge, toned build, I'd've melted into a puddle of goo at his feet had he not held me so possessively, firmly and gently. My hunger for him suddenly flared. It burned fiercely. I became frantic for more of his touch. I craved it. Wanted more. I burned for Sam ... Needed him. Longed for more. Wanted, needed and loved him. In the end it got too much and gasping breathlessly for air, I weakly pushed him away as I gazed at him hungrily through lust-blown eyes.

It appeared he was equally affected. It was impossible to ignore Sam's huge, rock-hard shaft as it throbbed and nudged persistently against my belly. Our eyes met briefly before his dark, molten, whisky-hued gaze dropped to my mouth, making me giddy with anticipation. If I'm being honest, I was blown away at how fast Sam had gotten me so hot 'n' bothered for him. He'd done it without breaking into a sweat and made it look so easy. So effortless. Swallowing hard, I ran the tip of my tongue across my tender, swollen lips and desperately tried to control my breathing.

Sam raised his hand, then lightly ran a forefinger down my cheek before grazing my lower lip with the ball of his thumb. His eyes drifted over my body, going down slowly then back upwards at the same painstaking pace. The intensity and heat of his appreciative gaze, made me tremble. Brought out my flesh in goosebumps ... especially when his hands drifted down my flanks to rest on my hips, steadying me. The warmth of his palms seeped into my skin and had my blood coursing like wildfire through my veins.

"And you say I don't give a shit ? Damn, Paul ! You're all I think about ... You're on my mind 24/7. I don't just want you anymore, I fucking love you ... I'm _in_ love with you, dumb-ass ! I could make you happy if you just give me a chance, yeah ?" And when he rumbled those words in that deep, raspy sexy voice of his and his hand rested protectively on the curve of my belly ? Fuck ! I _knew_ I was done for ... That he had me. Well 'n' truly had me. For keeps ... or as long as he wanted me. Then ...

"The reason why I didn't say anything earlier about the baby is that I was trying to get my head around it, y'know ? It wasn't that I didn't want anything to do with you or the little one. _I do_. You just caught me unawares, 's all. I mean, you've known about it for a couple of weeks and had time for everything to sink in. I'm still processing it all- "

I felt myself grow cold and instantly tensed. There it was, the crux of the whole matter ... Sam had changed his mind. He _was _rejecting me ... and not just me, but our baby as well. Biting my lower lip, I hastily tore my gaze away from him and stared blindly at the floor, cursing my stupidity and raging, unpredictable hormones and praying I wouldn't breakdown and cry. Sam must've read my mind. Must've sensed what was going on in my crazy head. Could tell exactly what I was thinking just by looking at my stricken expression. He reacted quickly and spoke softly in a genuine attempt to soothe my fears.

"Hey ! _Hey ! _Paul ! Don't even think it. I'm not walking away from the pair of you. I'm not rejecting you _or_ our baby. And I'm _definitely_ not pissed about what's happened. If it means I get to be with you, that I get to have a family of my own, then ... Hell ! This is the best thing that's happened to me. I'm far from pissed, if anything you've made me so happy. All I want is you and now, knowing you're carrying my kid, that's just a bonus, Paul. It's not just you I want any more, it's both of you ..."

Suddenly, I felt oh-so tired. So drained of strength and emotion. I just wanted to go back to bed. Close my eyes. Fall asleep. And just forget about everything. And if I couldn't do that ? Pretend that none of it had ever happened. That I hadn't become a shifter. That I hadn't imprinted on my best friend. That we'd never fallen out. That I wasn't in love with him ... didn't need or want him. That he hadn't knocked me up and rejected me. Then I made the mistake of looking at him and saw the need, desire, longing and more importantly, the love that blazed in those shrewd, striking golden-brown eyes. The fact that I was the one responsible for that look left me stunned. That_ I, _of all people, was able to make Sam feel so much. Damn ! I'd gotten him pegged all wrong. Right from the off ... I was such a dumb fuck ! _This_ was no wind up ... No cruel joke. Sam _was_ being honest with me. He _hadn't_ lied. _He _genuinely wanted_ me _... _and our cub_. Despite me looking like shit, as well as being so screwed up and the Pack's worst and biggest ever fuck-up.

Feeling drowsy, I sighed and slumped heavily against Sam's broad, smooth chest, mumbling "Sam, I'm sorr- ... Sorry for being a jerk ... I'm just all over the place right now, I can't help it ..." Having misjudged him so badly, I felt subdued and unusually shy. I glanced up and saw Sam give me a lopsided grin, one which made my heart flip. Gods ! It's official, my imprint had turned me into a wuss ... made me soft. Pliable. Weak-willed. And the way he looked at me, as if I was the most precious, most important thing in his life didn't help matters either.

"Shhh ... it's ok. I get it. You're tired and you've been through a helluva lot, you're entitled to be a little whacked right now. C'mon, you look done in. I'm taking you back to bed, Paul. You need to get some rest ..."

And before I could do anything crazy like protest, he carefully picked me up and carried me back to his bed. I couldn't help but nestle against him. It felt so good to be held in his arms. To be so close. And despite feeling absolutely knackered, I was all too aware of him. Of Sam's strength, his warmth, power and build. How hard his toned body was, the smoothness of his skin which felt like heated silk. The steady beat of his heart and how evenly he breathed. Of how his woodsy, citrusy scent drove me wild. And how safe and comforted I felt in his presence. My body relaxed and I laid my head on Sam's shoulder, close to his neck and let my warm breath ghost over his skin as I gently, yet sleepily, nuzzled his throat.

Hope began to flare within me. Maybe, just maybe, my not-so-dumb, brave, persistent, handsome imprint stood more than a chance of winning me over after all.

_**XXXXX**_

For the second time in less than twenty four hours, I woke up feeling well rested and cocooned in warmth. Only this time, I was all too aware of the source of my warmth ... of why I felt so contented and so safe. A thick, sinewy forearm snaked around my waist, drawing me close until I lay flush with Sam's torso as his body spooned mine. Despite biting my lower lip, I couldn't for the life of me stop a huge grin from spreading across my face. I was finally where I'd yearned to be for the past two years ... Where I belonged. An overwhelming need came over me to see Sam's face and 'cause my will was no longer my own, that I was a slave to the imprint, I gave in to the urge ... I slowly turned in Sam's arms to face him.

If there was ever a word that'd exactly describe the look on my beloved imprint's face right at this very moment, it would be "tranquil." Sam looked at peace and so very contented. Suddenly, looking at him wasn't enough. I wanted - fuck, no - I _needed_ to touch him. And 'cause I craved it so badly, I caved. I just couldn't resist the temptation. And if I'm honest, I didn't want to. Impulsively, I reached out and lightly trailed my fingertips down from his right temple, across his cheek. At first, my touch was tentative. Cautious. But I quickly gained confidence. By the time I reached his lips, I was captivated and failed to notice Sam had finally woken up and before I knew what was happening, he curled his tongue around my finger and slowly drew it into his mouth. His gaze was intense and full of hunger and the feel of his hot, moist tongue as it massaged and caressed my finger made me gasp. Then just as abruptly, he playfully nipped my fingertip before releasing it with a quick, gentle lave of his tongue to take away the sting. My breath immediately hitched and even if I wanted to - which I didn't - I was unable to break eye contact with him. A knowing, teasing grin slowly curved Sam's lips. It made him look boyish and if at all possible, even more attractive.

"Hey, trouble ..." Sam drawled, his voice still raspy with sleep. His hand came to rest on the side of my neck, its long, callused fingers slowly curving and lazily caressing my nape.

"H-Hey ..." I replied softly. Again, I felt awed by how my imprint alone was capable of making me feel shy. It wasn't the first time it'd happened and I doubted that it'd be the last time either.

I'm not sure how it happened exactly ... which one of us closed the gap between us. And honestly ? I didn't particularly give a fuck. All I cared about is that it happened and I'm glad that it did. Glad and more than happy. Hell ! Maybe "ecstatic" would be closer to the mark to describe how I really felt. Thrilled to receive his light, teasing kisses. To feel him playfully nip a path across my jawline then return to tenderly caress my lips. The increasing pressure of his mouth upon mine grew as he tugged, nibbled and sucked my lips before coaxing them to part so that he could plunder and ravage my mouth. All too soon the kiss consumed us. It grew darker. Intensely possessive. And heated. It burned with passion and was mindblowingly seductive.

Sam's hand left my neck and skimmed its way slowly down my body. His touch set my body on fire and soon, kissing was no longer enough. I wanted more. I craved more from him. When his hand finally reached my butt and he began to grind his hips against mine, that was it. I was lost. Groaning huskily, I coiled my leg around his and slid my hands beneath his boxers. Grabbing his taut, pert ass with both hands and revelling in the feel of it, I began to instinctively knead it. I must've done something right, something that Sam liked, as he gave a throaty, needy moan. The sound instantly sent a bolt of lust straight to my groin, making me harder than I already was. By now, Sam's lips were on my neck, roaming freely towards the mark at the base of my throat. The mark that he'd given me. The one that branded me his for all to see. His and his alone. The feel of his lips brushing, nibbling, suckling and caressing the mark made my toes curl. Had my heart racing madly. Made me want so badly. And when he began to lick that spot ? I ached for him. Desperately. His touch was driving me crazy. Had me writhing feverishly against his body like a cheap whore who had no control over her body or its actions. Breathing raggedly, I began to frantically paw at his boxers in a vain attempt to push them down his lean hips. To strip them away so that I could revel in the feel of his bare flesh without hindrance.

"Mine ..." Sam's voice abruptly broke the silence. Its tone possessive. Heated.

I froze. Sam's statement had me torn. Made me feel conflicted. Sure, what he said was true. I _was_ his. I belonged to Sam. Heart. Body. And soul. Yet a small voice inside my head which belonged to my inner rebel protested half-heartedly. Reminding me that I was a free spirit and not meant to be anyone's possession. But the fact of the matter was that I wanted to be Sam's. To belong to my imprint. 'Cause when it came to the wire, I needed him. Pure 'n' simple. I needed Sam to want and love me as much as I wanted and loved him.

When I didn't reply, Sam placed his index finger beneath my chin and tilted it upwards, forcing me to meet his molten gaze. All the while he continuously brushed the mark at the base of my throat with the ball of his thumb.

"_Mine,_" he growled softly once more and for the life of me, I didn't have the will nor the heart to argue with him. After all, it was true. I was his and I didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. Nor did I want to. To hell with my fucking pride. It made a cold and lonely bedfellow and I'd cut my nose to spite my face for far too long where my imprint was concerned. Swallowing hard, I nodded slowly and took a deep breath then finally quietly replied.

"Yeah ... Yours, Sam ... _All yours _..."


	19. Chapter 15

**WARNING: **_Thanks to certain potty-mouthed individuals of the Pack, contains pretty strong language. Plus, this is where things _finally _start to heat up ... _

_**XXXXXXXXX**_

**Chapter XV**

**Sam's pov:**

The moment I heard Paul's confession, my heart immediately began to race. I'd always found his deep, husky voice attractive, yet never more so when he finally acknowledged and accepted my claim. Just five little words. Softly spoken. Full of emotion. Five words which meant the world to me ... and had my inner wolf writhing in ecstasy and howling with pleasure.

"Yeah ... Yours, Sam ... _All yours _..."

Slowly shaking my head in amazement, I honestly couldn't believe my luck. He was mine. All mine. My moody, feisty, irresistible mate had finally dropped his guard. Lowered his defences and laid himself bare. And that was totally unexpected. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought Paul would give in so easily. That he would yield without a fight. But he had. He'd submitted to me. Willingly. And without coercion ... Before I'd marked him and my wolf had set its heart on him, many had regarded Paul as the most attractive member of the Pack. A perfect example of tall, dark and handsome. His toned, muscular body literally had women drooling and lusting like crazy after him. But now ? Paul's lithe, sinewy frame was slighter than it used to be. Yet I found it far more alluring and to me, he was beautiful. Captivatingly so.

I allowed my hand to slowly drift from his chin, across his jaw and down his neck, pausing briefly to tease the mark at the base of his throat with my thumb. Paul's breath immediately hitched and his body trembled in response to my touch. Seemingly flustered, Paul ran the tip of his tongue across his kiss-swollen lips, instantly drawing my attention. And I craved to taste them once more. To feel them move restlessly, hungrily, beneath mine. For Paul to want me as badly as I wanted him. My eyes suddenly met his and I was instantly blown away by the wealth of emotion they held. Paul's dark, luminous gaze was wary. It revealed his innermost feelings all too clearly. Doubt. Apprehension. A trace of panic. Need. Want. Longing. And above all, love. The knowledge that I was the cause and recipient of those feelings ... well, it clean took my breath away.

My hand slid further down his flank and came to rest at his waist, drawing him even closer to me if it were at all possible, whilst unconsciously tracing small circles over his hipbone with the ball of my thumb. Paul continued to stare at me. Wide-eyed. Wired ... and so very needy. Then, cautiously for him, he laid his right hand lightly against my chest. Directly over my heart. What he did next I never expected. Paul pulled his hand away and slowly lowered his head, his lips gently caressing where his hand previously lay. The feel of those sensuous lips brushing across my sensitive, heated flesh made me gasp sharply. By now, my hand lay on the small of his back, my fingers sliding beneath the waistband of his boxers to idly stroke the firm globes of his pert ass. Inhaling raggedly, I briefly closed my eyes before absently carding the fingers of my left hand through his dark, spiky hair. Paul's lips roamed leisurely across my chest until his talented mouth captured a taut nipple. He began to tease it. Bit it gently before his tongue darted out to lave and soothe away the pleasurable sting of his teeth. And the effect of his teeth on my flesh was like a lightning strike. Instantaneous. I tensed then arched towards him, the grip of my hands on his butt becoming even more possessive.

When he finally and apparently, reluctantly stopped worrying the tender, highly sensitive nub, I gave a low whine of protest. It appeared that I had a kink and enjoyed having my nipples played with. That I liked - no, loved - the feel of my mate's mouth, lips, teeth and tongue worrying them. Something that Emily had never bothered to find out in the two years we'd spent together. It suddenly made me realize that she'd always placed her own pleasure and needs ahead of my own when we had sex and that she made no effort to find out what I liked or wanted. It also revealed just how selfish she'd been as a lover, whilst Paul ... Well, my Paul had instinctively known just how to please me and what I craved. Somehow, he was aware of exactly what made my body tick, even if I hadn't been ... Missing the graze of his teeth and the heat of his moist tongue against my responsive skin, I immediately tried to pull his head back to my chest, only to freeze as Paul growled softly. Hearing that deep, warning rumble was an instant turn on and caused all my blood to flow south, making me painfully hard.

I wanted Paul. Badly. So badly that I physically ached for him. And that ache led me to my next decision. That I'd do anything to alleviate that constant, throbbing, needy ache. But this time, I'd do it on Paul's terms. Even though I was Alpha, his dominant, I was willing to submit to him. To put both him and his needs first. I'd willingly let him be in control if it meant he was happy and that he'd finally begin to trust me once more. I flipped over onto my back, pulling Paul with me, causing him to straddle my hips, his arms braced against my chest as he tried to regain his balance. My hands instinctively gravitated to his hips to steady and hold him firmly in place.

"What the fuck, Sam ?"

I looked up and found Paul watching me warily, confusion etched on every fine line of his lean, handsome face. His eyes sought mine. Bewildered dark chocolate meeting pleading golden brown. And at that moment, staring up at my beloved mate, I'd never seen him look so breathtakingly adorable. Cautiously, I raised my right hand to cradle his cheek and just simply took pleasure in looking at him.

"Beautiful ..." I breathed softly. "Just beautiful."

"Huh ?" Paul's brow furrowed in bemusement.

"You, Paul ... You're so fucking beautiful and you don't even realize it."

"Oh ..." Paul replied softly, swallowing hard. A tint of scarlet faintly stained his cheeks and I found his sudden, unexpected attack of shyness so endearing ... so unlike the old, brash, confident Paul I knew so well. " 'M not- " He suddenly broke eye contact and turned his head away. My reaction was immediate. I sat up, placed the tip of my forefinger beneath his chin and gently turned his head back so that he was forced to meet my gaze.

"Yeah, you are. Paul, if you could only see what I see when I look at you, you'd understand," I spoke softly, desperately wanting to reassure and convince him that to me he was just that. Stunningly beautiful. "Seeing you like this, so close to me ... you just take my breath away, sweetheart. I look at you and I can't see anyone or anything else. I ache for you. Literally and physically. No one's ever had that effect on me before. And knowing that you're willing to give me a chance ... that you've accepted me even after all the shit I put you through, just blows me away."

"Sam- " Paul began warily and I felt his lithe frame tense above me.

"Nah, can I just say this, Paul ? Please ? While I'm still able to think straight ? What I'm trying to say and screwing it up badly is that although you're mine, you're forgetting one big thing ... that I'm yours. From this day onwards. Heart. Body. And soul. Only yours. And I love you. You get me ? I love you ... and I'd do anything, if it's in my power, for you. Yeah ? Anything. All I ask is that you remember that and I mean every single damn thing I say." I said earnestly, carefully studying him and hoping for a positive reaction. As I spoke, I noticed that Paul had drawn his lower lip between his teeth and had been worrying it anxiously and now I was stunned to find those striking dark, velvety eyes of his were glistening with unshed tears. Again, something I'd never expected to see from him, but what I now put down to his fluctuating and unpredictable hormones.

"Y-You mean that ? Truly ?" he finally rasped, still clearly in need of convincing.

I nodded. "Truly. Paul, you're everything to me. My best friend and beta. You're my mate. Hell ! You're carrying my son or daughter ... So never, ever, think you mean nothing to me, 'cause you don't. You're my all, you crazy moron. My everything. Never doubt that. All I want is for you to be happy ... that you'll start to trust me again and hopefully, care for me as much as I love you. I know it's a helluva lot to ask of you, especially after everything I've made you suffer, but I can dream, can't I ?"

Paul gave a hesitant nod and smiled tremulously. Then before I knew what was happening, he wrapped his arms around my neck and clung to me. The sudden movement caused his body to tilt forward . His hot skin was pressed against mine. Our bodies aligned perfectly. Shoulder to shoulder. Torso to torso. Groin to groin. I groaned inwardly as I felt Paul's lower body writhe unconsciously against mine, causing little Sam to perk up with interest once more. I hoped Paul wouldn't notice my body's reaction to his proximity, but something told me that'd never happen. My Paul may often act recklessly and do daft things, but one thing's for sure, he's no fool ... And when it comes to passion and intimacy, well ... lets just say my wily mate knows exactly what's what ...

To my astonishment, Paul didn't pull away or yell at me. He didn't even threaten to hand me my ass as he normally would. Nope, he simply nestled further into my embrace - ok, fine ... he clung to me, but I sure as hell could never accuse him of that, as the odds of him breaking free and hiding behind those very high, thick, defensive walls of his once more would be a dead cert. And in all honesty, that was the last thing I wanted him to do, considering how much I loved holding him in my arms. That I was captivated by this rare, gentle, vulnerable side to Paul and I revelled in the feel, smell and sight of him. It was the unexpected sensation of warm, smooth lips nuzzling my throat and the pressure of hard sinew digging into my lower abdomen which finally tore me away from my thoughts. Realizing exactly what that granite-like muscle was, I swallowed hard. It looked like I wasn't the only one to be affected so intensely by our closeness.

As Paul's lips painstakingly inched across my jawline towards the corner of my mouth, I'd been unaware of my hands sliding down the smooth expanse of his back until they came to rest on his black-clad ass. And I only became aware of how great my need for him was, when I noticed how my fingers trembled as they kneaded and idly caressed his flesh. I swear to gods, on my life, that I never meant to take advantage of him ... but the moment Paul's lips caressed mine with a featherlight, tender kiss, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. Knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was a lost cause. In that single, unforgettable moment, everything changed ...

Fuck ! I may be Alpha. Paul's dominant, imprint and mate. But in that perfect moment ? I became Sam. Just Sam. And that Sam ? Well, I guess you could call him Paul's besotted, lovesick fool, but essentially, I'm Paul's. I belong to him as surely as he's mine. And the very thought of it had my wolf howling with pleasure once more ... Once I realized that and accepted it, there was no way I could walk away and leave him - leave them - even if I wanted to ... which I didn't. I was in it for the long haul and wanted nothing more than to commit fully to Paul and our little one..

Slowly, I turned my head a fraction until my lips met Paul's. To his surprize, I allowed mine to soften and part as I closed the gap between us. I reined in my passion and kept the kiss gentle, deciding that Paul be the one to control the kiss, to dictate how intense things would become between us. Yet it appeared my unpredictable mate had something entirely different in mind. Instead of playing along and keeping the kisses lighthearted and playful, Paul increased the pressure of his lips on mine and deepened the kiss, changing everything ... My promise to behave suddenly became a dim and distant memory as I was consumed by Paul's intensity and searing passion. And the way he softly moaned my name was what finally broke me.

Breaking the kiss, I pulled back and laid a trembling hand against his cheek. Inhaling deeply, I eyed my mate pleadingly. Hungrily. Leaving him in no doubt as to what I wanted. Who I craved. "Can I ... ? Paul, please ... ?"

He watched me silently whilst worrying his lower lip, then after what seemed like an age he gave a single, yet determined nod. I never got a chance to react. Paul moved away, hastily shucked off his boxers, then straddled my lower body once more. Leaving me completely stunned. Especially when I felt his hard dick leaking on my skin as it dug against my belly.

"You sure ?" I had to ask him. To give him an out. To stop him from feeling pressurized into doing something he didn't want to. To prove to him that his wellbeing and happiness was my first priority and for him to realize that I loved him. " 'Cause you don't have to ... You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Paul. Not with me. I just want you to do what you wan- " Whatever I was about to say was lost when I felt my mate's hands clawing needily at my boxers as he tried to rip them off my body.

"I wouldn't be here, if I didn't want to be ..." Paul snarled, an equally ravenous look on his lean, handsome face. "If I didn't want or need you ... So, just shut the fuck up 'n' kiss me, Sam."

"Paul- "

Paul gave an exasperated hiss. "Fuck, Sam ! What the hell does a guy have to do around here to get his imprint to fuck him through the mattress, huh ? Quit screwing around, lose those boxers and just fucking take me ! 'Cause if I don't get my rocks off soon, I'll fucking claim you instead ..." And just to reinforce his point, my fiery, unpredictable mate deliberately ground his hips against mine. The steady, heated gaze he gave me, combined with the deathly serious and needy expression on his face soon had me caving in without protest. I barely had time to raise my hips to "lose" my boxers, when I felt them being impatiently tugged off me before being thrown haphazardly over Paul's shoulder into a dark corner.

"Better ?" I drawled, propping my upper body up against the pillows. Paul's initial response was to glower at me.

"I guess ... Not my fault if one of us was too attached to his briefs, was it ?" he muttered, looking far from penitent. "Besides, you were stalling and I don't wanna wait. I need you, Sam ... Want you ... Want to feel this" he paused, then reached down and wrapped a possessive hand around my painfully swollen dick, "inside me. Claiming me. For you to take me hard 'n' fast. To feel your strength, your heat, slamming into my core for days later ..." The grasp of his fingers tightened on my shaft with each confident pass of his hand. "You said you want to make me happy, well, this is your chance ... Do it. Claim me. Mark me again ... I want you to ..."

"Fuck ..." I breathed, becoming even more aroused by his words. One way or another, slowly but surely, my gorgeous mate was going to be the death of me. And I was more than happy to let him do just that. Paul's grip on my dick became firmer. His strokes, harder. Rougher. Faster. Just the way I liked it. My body instinctively arched into his. Rubbing against him. Craving friction. Yearning for more ... For him. Paul's touch was addictive and he was my personal drug of choice. He was intoxicating ... and I had no intention or desire to give him up. Not when he was capable of giving me so much pleasure. Suddenly, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, staying the hand that drove my body wild with need and want.

"_Shit ! _No ... wait. S-Stop, Paul ... Need you to stop. _Now !_" I hissed a warning. My mate tensed. The piercing look he gave me cut to the quick. It was full of disbelief, anguish and pain.

"Y-You don't want this ? Don't want me ?" Doubt crept in and choked his voice. Considering the outstanding way Paul had single-handedly clouded and overwhelmed my senses, it took a moment for my lust-addled brain to get in gear ... and then I realized what I'd unwittingly done. Paul believed I was rejecting him ... again. And nothing could be further from the truth. Rejecting him was the last thing I planned to do.

"_NO !_" I yelled in protest and saw his face crumple with sorrow before I became aware of what I'd said. "Fuck ! I mean, yeah ... I really want this ... I want you, Paul. Need you. But ... But I can't do this ... not like this- "

"What the fuck d'ya mean "you can't do this" ?" Paul demanded, pulling back to sit on my thighs. He glared at me and boy, did he sound pissed. "Either you want me or you don't. There are no half measures. You can't do this to me, Sam. You can't tease the imprint like this ... Or play on me and my feelings for you. It ain't right, Sam and it sure ain't fucking fair- "

"I'm not !"

"No ?" Paul raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Could've fooled me- "

"No. I'm not. I wouldn't - couldn't - do that to you, Paul. I love you, for crying out loud. But there's a reason why I can't- "

"Well, c'mon then ... What are you waiting for ? Spit it out. 'Cause it better be a damn good reason."

I ran the tip of my tongue along my lower lip and ran my hand across my scalp. "Ok, wise ass, the reason ... The reason I can't, is that you've got me so strung out right now that I'm about to shoot my load and ... and I don't want to do that unless I'm inside you. I want to be inside you when it happens, 'k ? Want to feel you writhing against me, have you wrapped around me ... To feel those hot walls of yours tighten around me as you milk me dry. For us both to come together and to be able to see your face when you do. I want it to be special. Now d'ya get it ?" I growled softly.

There. I'd finally found the guts to tell him. To tell him exactly what was on my mind. How I really felt ... and what I truly wanted. There was no doubt about it, I'd definitely changed. In the past, I'd always been reticent about my feelings and my needs. Was reluctant to share them and tended to keep quiet. But now, thanks to a certain bloody-minded, infuriating wolf the old me was history. Paul had changed me. Brought me out of my shell when it came to my emotions ... and I could only hope that was a good thing.

My admission was met with silence. Deathly silence. Warily, I ventured to look at my mate and was stunned by what I saw. Paul just sat there. Wide-eyed and totally frozen. Apparently, rendered speechless by my confession.

"Paul ?" Worry laced my voice and I leant forward, unaware of my hand inching up his bare thigh. "You ok ?"

"H-Huh ?"

"I wanted to know if you're ok ?"

"Did you mean it ?"

I could feel my brow furrowing in confusion. Keeping up with Paul's quick, sharp mind was a task in itself at the best of times as it always seemed to hurtle at a break-neck speed, so unless you kept your eye on the ball, then he could easily lose you. And this time ? Well, it appeared that I'd somehow dropped the ball and it was rolling downhill from me. "What ?"

Paul huffed impatiently and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What you said just now, you dick ... Did you mean any of it, or were you just yanking my chain ?"

I leant further forward, closing the gap between us and by now, my thumb was unconsciously stroking the heated flesh of his upper, inner thigh. "Jeez, Paul, you can be so dense at times. Hell, yeah ... I meant every godsdamned thing I said. I wasn't lying to or playing with you when I said them. I meant it, for fuck's sake. I've no reason to lie or to lead you on. You're my mate ... not some cheap, meaningless, nameless fuck who means zilch to me. I love you, ooof- " I was suddenly flattened against the pillows by what could only be classed as a deliriously happy, excitable shifter.

"Then why the hell didn't you say so in the first place, instead of making us both suffer, huh ?" Paul demanded huskily. "We've wasted so much time ... Time we both could've put to better use. It was all I ever wanted to know ... So, why didn't you tell me, Sam ?"

The feel of Paul's lips gently nuzzling my throat made me shift slightly and for the life of me, I couldn't prevent a needy moan from escaping my lips. "I didn't want to take advantage of you- "

"Oh, gods, Sam ... you hopeless, fucking idiot," Paul groaned, his fingers lightly grazing my left nipple before slowly descending across my abs. My breath instantly hitched. "You blind, or what ? Couldn't you see that I _wanted_ you to take advantage of me ? I craved that so much, you fool. Wanted it more than anything ..."

"Well, how could I when you kept forcing me to play hide 'n' seek, huh ? Everytime I tried to get close to you, you'd bolt ... or Leah'd be by your side in full-on protective mamma rottweiler mode. Damn it, Paul ! I couldn't get near you, even if I wanted to. D'ya know how much that hurt ? Seeing you lower your defences ... let down your guard ... to everyone but me. It was driving me crazy ... I know I deserved everything you threw at me and then some ... that I was the bastard that hurt you, but ... but you avoiding me ? Not wanting me in your life ? I missed you and being kept from you was killing me ..."

Paul suddenly reached for my hand and lightly brushed his lips across my knuckles before softly admitting, "Missed you too ... more than you'll ever know. Staying away from you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do and it hurt far more than any beating I ever had off the old man ..." he paused and lightly rubbed his cheek against the back of my hand. "I'm not gonna run 'n' hide any more, Sam, 'cause I finally get it. If I want to be happy, _really_ happy, there's only one place I can be ... and that's with you. 'Sides, I owe it to our Wolfie. He deserves to have his dad around ... to get to know him ... to love him. Right ?"

All I could do was nod. Clearly my mate was full of surprizes and I knew at that moment that I'd have to keep my wits about me if I stood any chance to keep up with Paul. He must've read my mind as the grin he gave me was full of mischief, affection and hope. His dark eyes watched me steadily. His gaze was bold, flirtatious and intense. It kinda reminded me of how a hungry man would study an all-you-can-eat buffet he'd been given a free pass to attend. It made me shiver in anticipation.

"So ... _my_ almighty Alpha," Paul huskily teased, trapping his lower lip between his teeth before slowly releasing it. Just watching that tempting gesture made me want to claim that luscious, plump lip. To bathe it with my sole attention. Or just simply worship it. I was briefly lost in thought over that distracting lower lip that I didn't pay proper attention to what Paul was saying. "Have you decided yet ?"

"Uh ..." The blank look on my face clearly told him that my mind had been otherwise occupied, albeit temporarily. He laughed softly, all too aware that he was the cause of the lapse in my concentration.

"Oh, Sam ... Sam ... Sam ... Other than seeing my face, have you decided how you want me ?"

If ever there'd been a question guaranteed to make my jaw drop, then that was it.

"Fuck, Paul ! Already told you never to force yourself to do something you didn't want to. 'Specially if it involves me. Do it 'cause you want to, not for anyone else ..."

My hot-head sighed before rolling over to lie on his back. " 'Course I'm gonna do it for you. I love you. But I'm a selfish bastard. _Y'know that_. I may be doing it for you, but I'm mostly doing it for me. 'Cause I want _this_ ..._ I want you_." He swiftly tugged my unresisting body to lie between his spread legs and briefly rested his forehead against mine, before reaching again for my right hand. The moment his tongue curled around my index finger and slowly drew it into his mouth, my brain short-circuited. I couldn't help it.

And once he began to suckle and lave another finger, I realized I was about to find out whether my drop dead gorgeous wolf's reputation for being insatiable was justified or not ...


End file.
